


Sisterhood

by Rhiannon1199



Series: Spinning Gold [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adult!Agni, Adult!Lucia, Adult!Sissel, Adult!Sofie, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Childbirth, Coming of Age, Divorced Dragonborn/Vilkas, F/M, Imperial victory, Interrogation, Invasion, Light Angst, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Canon, Post-Civil War, Post-Divorce, Siblings, Teen Pregnancy, Torture, Visions, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 39,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon1199/pseuds/Rhiannon1199
Summary: 17-year-old Sissel is still haunted by the memories of her abusive childhood. Before she was adopted by Eira Galethien, the Altmer who went on to slay Alduin six years ago, she endured horrific beatings from her birth family, leaving psychological scars which seem unlikely to heal.But a threat lurks in the South as the weak Empire tries to piece Skyrim together after the war, a shadow growing ever darker. Sissel's visions could provide the key to victory as the Aldmeri Dominion plans its invasion of the Empire, starting with Skyrim. Can she rise to the challenge of overcoming her fears and helping to save her homeland from the dangers that await it? Or will she let herself crumble with the rest of mankind?Told from the perspective of both Sissel and Sofie.





	1. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

To this day, the dragon attack that had almost destroyed Rorikstead haunted my sleeping hours. I awoke from another nightmare of dragon fire on thatch and the stench of burning flesh, panting and sweating, Sofie's hands on my shoulders.

'Shh,' she hushed, rubbing my arm gently. 'It's alright. Just another dream.'

'Ugh,' I groaned, trying to get my shaking under control. Sofie looked at me with her calm, bright eyes and showed me how to breathe. I imitated her, my heart slowing. 

'Shall I wake Ma?' she asked.

'No, I'm fine now,' I said, flopping back down on the pillow with a huff. 'I just wish it would stop.'

'They've got more frequent,' Sofie pointed out. 

'Maybe they're building up to another vision,' I said. 'This happened before I had the vision about the Imperial victory in Windhelm. It was the dragon attack, Lemkil beating me, Britte chasing me and shouting insults at me all day...'

'Don't think of it now.'

'I'm not like you, Sofie,' I sighed. 'I'm not a warrior. I don't know how to be strong like you.'

'Bullshit,' Sofie drawled. 'You and I, we're the daughters of the _Dragonborn_ , Sissel. That in itself requires strength. Not to mention being shut up in this damned place for the last six years.'

'It's not _that_ bad.'

'Not for you, perhaps.' She slumped down on her bed, huffing. 'But you know I can't stay much longer.'

'Mother won't let you leave.'

'She'll have to. I'm near enough a grown woman, now, and I can't be babied and kept in the College like a doll in its house for her to admire. I want to go back to Whiterun.'

'If she finds out you want to join the Companions, she definitely won't let you. And let's say you did manage to convince Ma, or snuck off into the night without either her or Ondolemar hunting you down within hours, you don't know if they'd let you in.'

'Of course Aela would let me in!' exclaimed Sofie. 

'I don't mean Aela.' I raised an eyebrow at her. 'I mean Vilkas.'

'Surely he'd be glad to see me,' Sofie said. 

'I wouldn't count on it. Ysgramor's tomb is just a mile out to sea from here. Do you think in over half a decade none of them have passed through Winterhold to visit it? Not once have any of them dropped by.'

Sofie waved an impatient hand. 'That's only because of Mother.'

For a few moments I stared up into the darkness of the room, my stomach knotting and folding with anxiety. 'I don't want you to go.' 

'Don't be silly,' she said. 'You'll be fine.'

'No, I won't.'

'You have friends here. You have Mother. Ondolemar treats you like his own daughter.' 

'He treats you just the same!'

'No,' Sofie protested. 'He tries, I'll give him that, but he doesn't understand me. I'm a Nord through and through, whereas you...'

'What?'

'I don't know, I guess you've just become more like an elf over the years.'

'But I'm not an elf. Liking magic doesn't make you an elf.'

'I know that, stupid,' she teased. 'But you're more like them than I could ever hope to be. That's why they favour you.'

'They don't favour me at all, we've always been treated the same! _Please_ don't leave me here. What if I have more nightmares and there's nobody around to help? What if I can't breathe again?'

Sofie growled impatiently. 'Stop being a milk-drinker and go to sleep, Sissel.' 

'Fine,' I spat, turning over, hurting inside. She was right - I was a milk-drinker. Lemkil and Britte had always said it. I'd never been able to stand up for myself. Not against my birth family, not against Braith when she pushed me around, not against Sofie right now when she insulted me to my face. Most nights I woke up least once with nightmares and had to rely on my sister to calm me down and stop me from spiralling into inescapable panic. Even now, at seventeen years old, I would sometimes wake up Mother in the middle of the night as if I were still a child. Sofie was hero material, just like Ma - she was brave, valiant, passionate and fiery. I was an anxious wreck of a girl who was rendered bed-bound by severe headaches half the time, laying there uselessly in a dark room whilst the world got on with lives harder than my own. 

When I woke in the morning, Sofie was already gone, probably to see Jarl Kraldar for training. I was supposed to be doing lessons in Illusion with Drevis that morning, but didn't really feel up to enduring his attempts to make one of us invisible. I rose from my bed and pulled on my robes, running a brush through my pale hair, and heading outside into the bright light. 

I halted as I beheld the scene before me. Mother was facing a group of Altmer in the distinctive black robes of the Thalmor, talking to them with folded arms. Ondolemar was beside her, a spell readied in each hand, glaring at the evidently unwelcome guests. A wave of nausea came over me and I leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily as I observed the scene before me with sparks in my vision.

'Absolutely not,' Mother was saying. 'General Tullius is my ally and would never approve such a demand.'

'I suggest you turn around and go crawling back to the Ambassador before I pulverise you,' hissed Ondolemar. 

'We have a writ,' said one of the elves, producing a scrap of paper and handing it to Mother, who snatched it from him and ignited it in the palm of her hand, smiling coldly.

'No, you don't,' she said. 

'How dare you!' exclaimed the elf. 'Mark my words, Eira Galethien - the Dominion is not afraid of you. We _will_ return, and when we do, you won't have any choice but to let us search your little...establishment.' 

'Just you try,' laughed Ondolemar. 'You're not dealing with unskilled Talos-worshippers. If you value your miserable lives, you'll stay away.'

The Thalmor grinned slyly and turned away. 'We'll see you soon.' 

Mother glared after them, her brows lowered to cast shadows over her normally vibrant eyes. 'See you soon,' she murmured.

'Ma?' I said timidly as the horrible churning of my stomach finally stopped and I stepped into the light. Her expression relaxed as I approached and the Thalmor left the grounds. 

'Good morning, Sissel,' she said, forcing a smile onto her face. 'Aren't you meant to be with Drevis?'

'I don't want to see Drevis,' I said. 'All he does is try to turn things invisible.'

'Well you can't drop Illusion altogether,' said Mother. 

'Can't you teach me, Ondolemar?'

He grinned and ruffled my hair. 'I thought you might ask. I certainly can, but not today. Errands to run.' He glanced at Mother, who tried to shake her head subtly before smiling again. 

'Why don't you find Agni and do some sparring today?' she suggested. 'She was heading for the Arcanaeum a few minutes ago.'

'Okay,' I said. 'See you later.'

'See you later, dear.' 

Once far enough away, I let out a long breath. My heart was still thumping from witnessing the altercation with those Thalmor, and I needed to get away from the scene. I broke into a jog as I headed for the Arcanaeum to seek out Agni, who I found nestled in our usual dark corner, her dark hair a tangled mess that fell into her eyes as she scanned a copy of _Herbalist's Guide To Skyrim_. 

'Oh!' she gasped as I plonked down opposite her. 'You startled me.'

'Not sorry,' I joked. 'I've got nothing to do today, so I thought I'd come find you.'

Agni snapped the book shut. 'Oh, thank the gods. Now I don't have to spend my day memorising bloody plants on my own.' 

'Heard anything from Falion yet?' I asked.

'Nope,' she said. 'He's still pissed off that I snuck out to come here, but he'll come round. Where's Sofie?'

'I don't know, she wasn't there when I woke up.'

'She's probably gone to see Jarl Kraldar again,' said Agni. 'Honestly, she's got a good thing going in Winterhold since the Imperials won the war and made him Jarl. She'd be stupid to go to Whiterun.'

'She's got her heart set on joining the Companions,' I sighed. 

'What was it like, living with them for all those months when you were a kid?'

'For me it was boring as Oblivion. Ondolemar was the only one there who took an interest in me at all.'

'But what about Vilkas?' She asked, frowning. 'Wasn't he supposed to be your sort-of father?'

'He lavished all his attention on Sofie. When it became apparent that I was interested in magic, not being a warrior, I became invisible to him.'

'Sounds like a prick.'

'He was,' I agreed. 'But Sofie still idolises him a bit, though she'd never admit it, especially not in front of Mother or Ondolemar.' 

We fell silent for a while. I took my copy of _Response to Bero's Speech_ and continued the annotations I had started to add to the margins. The only sounds in the Arcanaeum were the flipping of pages and scribbling of quills on paper, occasionally interrupted by a cough from Urag. 

'Have your nightmares gone yet?' Agni asked.

'No,' I answered. She looked up, putting the book down again. 'It happened again last night. It was the dragon attack. I'm worried they may be building up to another vision.'

'But your visions normally have triggers, don't they?'

'Well, yes, but...did you see those Thalmor in the courtyard earlier?'

'What? No! What Thalmor?'

'There was a group of them here, trying to demand entry so they could search the College. I felt sick when I was looking at them, physically sick. I'm scared to go to sleep tonight in case that triggers it. There's something going on, Agni. I can feel it. Ma hasn't said anything, but I'm not stupid, I know the Thalmor are up to something.'

'Look, you have Sofie in the room with you if it does happen tonight,' she reassured me, placing her hand on my arm. 

I shook my head. 'She doesn't understand. She called me a milk-drinker last night.'

'You're not a milk-drinker, for gods' sakes. You have a gift, Sissel, but that gift comes with a price.' 

'I wish I didn't have it.'

'But you do.' Agni took a deep breath and bit her lip. 'Sissel...have you thought about talking to someone about it? Not your mother, or Ondolemar, or Sofie...someone who knows about...things.'

I frowned. 'Like who? What for?'

'Beneath the College,' she said. 'In the Midden. They say there's someone down there...the Augur of Dunlain...'

'The Augur? The Midden? Not a chance!'

'What harm can it do?' Agni protested.

'The Midden is full of undead, weird Daedric ritual chambers, rotten carcasses, spiders, ice wraiths - '

'I know, I know, but listen - you and I, we're pretty good at handling ourselves with magic. We certainly know enough to defend ourselves against a few dusty old skeletons or overgrown spiders. The Augur might be able to tell you what these visions mean. He might even know how to get rid of them.'

'The risk is too high.'

'What's the worst that can happen? A few cuts and bruises in exchange for knowledge that could drastically improve your life?'

I huffed as I watched her eager eyes glimmering in the candlelight. On one hand, as Mother and Ondolemar had always said, the Midden was a horrifying place that served all kinds of grisly purposes for former members of the College. Yet Agni had a point; the Augur of Dunlain was known for his foresight and knowledge, and undoubtedly would have some idea about my visions. I was so desperate to stop them. They were making me more and more ill every time they happened, slowly eating away at my mind.

'Fine,' I said at last. 'We'll go to the Midden, and seek out the Augur. But if anyone asks, this was your idea, alright?'

Agni grinned. 'Alright.'


	2. Hometown Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Getting to Whiterun in one piece proved a lot easier than I'd expected - Mother had always made out like the roads of Skyrim were perilous to travel alone, but I only encountered the odd wolf pack on my way to the city I felt I belonged in. I smiled to myself as it came into sight, a timber jewel set in the golden swathes of the plains. Finally, I'd come home.

As I strode in through the gates, a few people looked in my direction with frowns or curious stares, but soon returned to their business. Clearly, not many people recognised me. I suppose in six years, I must have looked almost unrecognisable to anyone who had known me before. Or at least, that's what I'd thought until I passed a tall young man in the market who grabbed my arm.

'By the gods,' he exclaimed as I whirled round and pulled out of his grip. 'Sofie? Is that you?'

'...Lars?' I replied, my eyes widening with shock at how my childhood friend had changed. He was no longer the scrawny, timid thing that had spent hours being bullied and begging me for help. He now had the strength and vibrancy of a young oak, and an angular face sculpted by the years, his chin dusted with stubble.

'You're the last person I expected to encounter today,' he said. 'What brings you back to Whiterun?'

'I'm joining the Companions, of course! Besides, I got sick of being stuck in the College of Winterhold.'

'I don't blame you,' Lars laughed. He patted my shoulder firmly and beamed. 'Welcome home, Sofie.' 

'Thanks.'

Leaving the market, I climbed on up to Jorrvaskr. Hearing the sound of blades whirring in the air and smelling the hot steel from the Skyforge above brought back all my childhood memories of this place. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and headed around the back.

Aela was basking in the spring sunshine, eyes closed against the light, her bow and quiver laying at her feet, whilst Farkas and Njada were sparring nearby. Stepping forward, I cleared my throat, and Aela's eyes opened, focusing on me. She raised her eyebrows.

'Is there something I can help you with?' she asked. 

'You don't recognise me, do you?' I replied, watching confusion cloud her face, then realisation, and she sprung to her feet, eyes wide.

'Sofie?' I nodded, and she laughed joyfully and threw her arms around me. 'Sofie, it is you! How many years has it been? Oh, Hircine...why are you here?' She pulled away, hands still resting on my arms, taking in the sight of me.

'I want to join up,' I said. 'If you'll have me.'

'Of course! You look so strong already! Have you been training?'

'Yes, Mother arranged lessons for me.'

'How is your mother? We wrote to each other for a while after she handed over her position to me, but I'm afraid to say we lost contact...'

'She's well,' I said. 'From what she allows me to know, anyway.'

'Well, well,' said Farkas as he approached and Njada headed inside. My former uncle folded me into a tight embrace, displaying a toothy grin. 'Look what the skeever dragged in! Good to see you, Sofie.'

'It's good to be back,' I replied.

'I'll test your arm later,' said Aela. 'But for now - '

She stopped speaking as the door flew open and Vilkas came running out, staring at me in disbelief. A lump formed in my throat and tears rippled in my vision before they spilled down my cheeks as he rushed forward and lifted me off the ground.

'Oh, Sofie,' he said, kissing my head. 'My little warrior has come back. I always knew you would.' 

'Everything's just as I remember it,' I said, wiping my tears away. 

'Except we're all six years older,' Aela chuckled. 

'You were just a little girl when you left,' Vilkas said, beaming at me. 'Now look at you. You're a young woman. Strong, beautiful, fierce.' His expression changed a little, darkening as a thought crossed his mind. 'What on Nirn came over your mother to let you come here?'

'Erm...' I looked around, folding my hands and biting my lip. 'That's the thing...Ma doesn't know I'm here.' 

'What?' Aela said. 'You came here from Winterhold without permission?'

'I was sick of that stupid College, stupid magic, Mother keeping me locked up there like a prisoner...I wanted to come here so desperately.'

'Sofie,' Aela scolded. 'Are you saying that she doesn't know where you are?'

'Well...no. She doesn't know.'

'It doesn't matter,' Vilkas intervened, prompting a swift glare from Aela. 'Sofie's old enough to decide where she goes.'

'Vilkas,' Aela hissed. 'Eira needs to know where her daughter is.'

'Eira didn't let me know where she or the children were for all these years,' Vilkas growled. I retreated from the conversation a little, elated to see him again, but not wanting to speak ill of my mother. 'Too busy flouncing around in Winterhold with her College associates and her lover.' 

'Fiancé,' I murmured. Vilkas laughed coldly.

'When did that happen?' 

'Uh...two years ago?'

'Hmph. Elves need not hurry.'

Aela sighed, interrupting us. 'Sofie, you must send her a letter before I let you join us.'

'Alright,' I grumbled.

'Not now,' said Vilkas, putting an arm around my shoulders. 'I'm taking you up Eorlund to get you some decent weapons and armour.' 

I smiled up at him. 'Let's go.'

**********

I composed my letter by candlelight on the desk that had once belonged to Vignar Grey-Mane, and then to Ondolemar when he had stayed here. Not that I really wanted to write to Mother and tell her where I was in case she came after me, but Aela insisted, and as Harbinger it was up to her if I joined the Companions or not. After scribbling ink on the page hastily, I waited for it to dry, reading over my words again.

_24th Rain's Hand, 4E 210_

_Mother,_

_I could not stay in the College any longer. I arrived safely in Whiterun today, and I have joined the Companions. Aela encouraged me to write to you to inform you of my whereabouts._

_Sending love from Whiterun,_

_Sofie_

Satisfied, I folded up the letter and handed it to the courier who lingered in the mead hall, instructing him to take it to the College of Winterhold, or if he were to see my mother on the road, to hand it to her then. Yawning, I headed downstairs to the room where the other whelps were sleeping. There were plenty of empty beds now, since Athis and Njada both rose to join the inner circle. Torvar had always been more interesting in the drinking than the fighting, so was content with staying a whelp, and Ria spent more time terrorising the wildlife in the tundra than anything else. 

Collapsing into my bed, I breathed in the scent of home, and sunk into dreams of happy memories and glimmering futures.


	3. The Midden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

'This was a bad idea,' I groaned as we progressed further into the Midden, facing the narrow, icy bridge we would have to cross to reach the Augur. 'This was a VERY bad idea.'

'It's just a bridge, Sissel,' sighed Agni. 'We just took out a whole nest of frostbite spiders and you're scared of a bridge?'

'It's icy!' I exclaimed. 'If we slip and fall down there we'll break our necks and die. The drop is at least twenty feet!' 

Agni shrugged. 'Easily fixed.' She conjured restless flames into her palms and sent them leaping across the bridge. Panicking, I grabbed her shoulder and knocked her off balance, and she quickly withdrew her magicka, the flames dying away from her hands.

'I'm trying to melt it!' she cried.

'Are you mad? This whole chamber is covered in ice! If you start throwing flames around, the roof could cave in on us!' 

'Fine, we'll take our chances then,' she grumbled, stepping onto the bridge cautiously, feet wide apart. 

'Be careful,' I whispered as she crept across. Gulping, I followed her footsteps, all too aware of the crunch of ice under my boots.

'See?' said Agni. 'It's not so bad if you - '

A hiss echoed through the chamber and I felt the hairs on my neck rise. Agni glanced around with narrowed eyes, drawing shock magic into her hands.

'Let's turn back.' I said. 'Agni, come on. Let's go.' 

'Ice wraith,' she muttered. 'It's watching us. Don't move.'

'Agni - '

'Shh!'

'We need to go!'

A gurgling screech sounded and I saw faintly the shifting of something against the ice as the wraith lurched forward, lashing out at Agni, who screeched as frost penetrated her skin where the creature sunk its spectral teeth into her shoulder. I tried to pinpoint the wraith, but it was practically invisible among the ice. Agni fired lightning into the air all around, and I conjured a flimsy storm atronach before rushing to her side, sending a healing spell through her shoulder. The weak atronach thrashed wildly as the wraith attacked it, sinking ghostly teeth into its rocky body. Horror grasped me as the atronach fell to the ground, defeated, and I realised what I had done.

'Get out of here,' I said, pushing Agni towards the other side as the wraith turned on us with another hiss. 'Run!'

Too late. The atronach sprayed out electricity, consuming the ice wraith and lashing against my skin, sending horrible jolts down my spine. Agni pulled me down, flat on the bridge, as lightning bounced off the walls of the chamber, and the ice around us began to crack.

'By the gods!' Agni yelled over a deafening crack as a colossal hunk of ice fell from the roof and smashed down onto the bridge, taking away almost half of it and shaking the rock beneath us. Shards flew everywhere, and we put our heads down to shield our faces as they tore past, cutting our skin and clothes.

With more creaking, more ice fell, this time above us. I rolled out of the way, pulling Agni along with me, but the ice boulder was quicker, smashing against her leg. She let out a piercing scream as her leg flopped uselessly, blood streaming down to the cavern floor, the clean-broken bone jutting out of her flesh. 

'Oh gods!' I cried, desperately trying to stay calm as the inevitable prickling started in my fingers that usually preceded the breathlessness, the unescapable panicking. I couldn't afford to lose it, not now. 'I'm going to have to hoist you up, Agni. This is going to hurt - '

'Just do it!' she shrieked. 'Quickly, before I slip!'

Obeying, I took a shaky breath and hauled her up onto the remains of the bridge just as it began to crumble. Agni cursed.

'You go,' she said. 'If you follow the trail, there's a way out.'

'No, I'm not leaving you here!' I said.

More ice fell, some of it crumbling to form smaller pebbles that bruised our bodies, smashing against the weakening bridge. Agni's side went first, and I clung to her desperately as the fall threatened to pull her away. 

The last thing I remembered was Agni's scream and the feeling of falling as something struck the back of my head, and the world around me turned black.


	4. The Light of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

I was up with the dawn, eager to retrace my childhood steps in the city's streets before taking on some work for the Companions. A new lease of life had come over me - never had I felt so driven and determined. The others in the room groaned as I brushed my hair and put on the armour that Vilkas had bought for me, an exquisite set crafted with Skyforge steel. I marched out of the living quarters and into the grey light of the early morning, breathing in the cool spring breeze and heading off for a stroll around the city. 

Heimskr was already up, skulking around town as I'd learned he did these days, unable to yell about Talos all day since the Empire got a stronger hold on Skyrim. He still held worship in secret and had taken to distributing leaflets, however, and maintained the shrine by the Gildergreen. Surprisingly, it hadn't been taken down. I recalled with amusement the time when he had sent Mother a love letter, complete with a proposal of marriage, which we had all fallen about laughing at as she read it aloud. Poor fool.

I approached one of the watch towers on the city wall and placed my hands on the stone, looking up to the Throat of the World. There, six years ago, almost seven now, Mother had returned from Sovngarde. She rarely spoke of her fight against the World-Eater, or of her time in the land of the gods. Ondolemar had told me once that it was painful for her to speak of it - the fight had been hard, and she had witnessed the horror of Alduin devouring the souls of the dead. No matter how many times Sissel and I had begged her, she would tell us that such a story was for another time, and that it was late, or that she was busy. Eventually, we stopped asking. 

Sissel. How was she managing without me? I hoped she was alright, but I could hardly hold myself responsible for her. I had my own life now, and the world is a harsh place. Sissel needed to learn how to get by without a hand to hold. Although I imagined Mother and Ondolemar would keep holding onto her forever. I had argued with them about it once, when I was around fifteen and Sissel fourteen. Frostbite spiders had crawled up from the Midden in the night, and we woke up to the College covered in their webs. I helped put them down, but Sissel cowered in our room and wouldn't come out until every last cobweb was swept away. I called her a milk-drinker, and they had both scolded me for it. Angered, I had told them that Sissel would never succeed or make anything of herself if she behaved in that way, and Mother had warned me to be quiet whilst she soothed my sister. I had stormed off, tired of being expected to be strong all the time whilst my sister was mollycoddled by the pair of them. Looking back, maybe I was a little jealous.

Shrugging off thoughts of my sister, I listened as the sound of rhythmic hammering started up from the Plains District. Adrianne Avenicci, most likely, working the forge at Warmaiden's. That steady clanging was the heartbeat of home to me. 

Turning away from the watchtower and heading down to the Plains District, I approached Breezehome and knocked my knuckle against the door. A few moments passed before Lydia appeared, bleary eyed and still in her sleeping clothes.

'Oh!' she gasped. 'Sofie, I had heard that you were in town! Welcome back. Actually, before I forget - come in first.' 

'Is something wrong?' I asked, stepping into the house. Even after all these years, it looked the same, smelled the same, as if we had only just left. 

'No, not at all,' Lydia said, closing the door behind me. 'When word reached Dragonsreach of your arrival, the Jarl requested a meeting with you. I was going to seek you out later today.'

'A meeting with the Jarl?' I said uncertainly. 'What for?'

Lydia shrugged. 'I'm afraid I don't know. I wouldn't worry, though - it may be that he simply wishes to welcome you. He has a lot of respect for your family.'

'Alright,' I said. 'I'll head up there soon. Do you...do you mind if I look around?'

'Of course not! This is your family home!' She excused herself and disappeared upstairs to her room to dress, leaving me alone downstairs. Light streamed in through the narrow windows, making the airborne dust glow with ethereal light, as if it weren't the remnants of stale memories but the breath of Akatosh himself. 

Crossing to the back of the house, past the fire pit and the dining table, I peered into mine and Sissel's old room. It looked completely untouched, as if frozen in time - the beds were made, as they probably had been for six years, the chests near them still slightly ajar as we had left them. I went to my old bed and sat on the edge, reaching forward to open the chest and search inside. I smiled down at the contents - there was my favourite doll that I had cried for the whole time we were in Heljarchen Hall after Mother and Vilkas split up, and beneath it was a trove of glimmering gemstones and pearls, dried flowers crumbling amongst all the other things, the odd septim blinking up at me as it passed in an out of the light. Books, too - I pulled out my copy of _Mace Etiquette_ , which was not mine at all, but Ondolemar's. He'd given it to me when I had sulked about him teaching Sissel magic, and had expressed my wish to do something, as he claims I said, 'warriorish'. It even still had scribbled on the inside page: _Property of the Aldmeri Dominion, issued to Commander Ondolemar Silvarin of Understone Keep, Markarth, The Reach, Western Skyrim._

To think of him as a Thalmor commander now was almost impossible, seeing how he could rant for hours about the Dominion and all its cruelty. I still remember clearly the first time I saw him, when Mother brought him back to Jorrvaskr, and gave him Vignar Gray-Mane's old room. He had seemed terrifying then, as tall as Mother but twice as broad and half as gentle-faced. When he'd looked at me and Sissel, though, the cold in his expression had thawed. Sissel was initially scared to go and speak to him, so I'd called her a chicken and laughed in her face until she went upstairs to see him. She'd returned glowing with confidence, claiming he had shown her some spell involving candles or something of the sort. Such a mood was a rare thing in a girl so anxious.

Sighing, I put my childhood possessions back in the chest, suppressing the emotion that welled up in me, and headed for the door. 

'Lydia, I'm going now!' I called out.

'See you soon!' came the muffled reply as I strode out into the morning light, whistling _Ragnar the Red_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Ondolemar's second name is completely made up)


	5. Concussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

The next thing I knew, I was laying on a hard surface, wooden by the feel of it. The fresh perfume of mountain flowers mixed with incense smoke filled my nose, a dull ache forming in the centre of my head. I opened my eyes, blinking to try and clear my blurred vision, and let out a small groan as I became aware of the stiffness and pain in my entire body. Something or someone stirred from elsewhere in the room, which judging by the circular walls was my mother's quarters. 

'She's waking up,' I heard Colette say as she peered over me. Mother appeared on my other side, a bottle in her hand, her eyes brimming with tears. 

'Sissel, can you hear me?' she said, her voice quiet and distant. I tried to nod but winced, unable to move my neck without searing pain. 

'Where's Agni?' I managed to croak. 

'Agni is fine,' said Colette. 'All she had was a broken leg and a few cuts and bruises.'

'You took a nasty hit to the head,' Ondolemar said, appearing at the end of the table I lay upon. 

'What possessed the two of you to go down to the Midden?' Mother sighed, weariness apparent on her face, in her voice, in her movements. 'You very nearly died. I've been sick with worry. And your sister...'

'Not now, Eira,' Ondolemar said gently. 

'Now that she's conscious, it's time we got some potions down her,' said Colette. Mother disappeared for a moment and returned with a large red bottle. Without protest, I allowed her to tip my head back, though it was agony, and pour the liquid down my throat. Strength surged through my veins, the stiffness gradually retreating from my muscles as the potion repaired my body. I pushed myself up on my elbows and clutched my head as the world around me began to spin. Mother placed her hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back down against the cushion beneath my head on the table. 

'Don't try to get up yet,' she said.

'I'll take my leave,' said Colette as she trotted out of the room. 

'How long have I been unconscious?'

'More than a day.'

'Where's Sofie?' I asked, frowning as Mother and Ondolemar shared a glance.

'We don't know,' said Ondolemar. 'She never came back from training.'

Nerves fluttered in my stomach. 'Oh.'

'Do you know where she could be?' asked Mother. I looked up at her tired, gaunt face, feeling guilty for even considering not telling her. Ondolemar didn't look much better; his skin was an unhealthy pallor, and he too suffered the telltale bags under his eyes that signalled a sleepless night. 

'She...a few weeks ago, she told me she wanted to go to Whiterun.'

'Whiterun?' echoed Ondolemar. 'Why?' I looked between them for a moment, reluctant to speak, feeling trapped, unable to breathe. Mother noticed a change in my face and took my hand.

'It's alright, Sissel,' she said. 'We're not angry with you, but you must tell us what Sofie told you.'

'She wanted to join the Companions,' I answered.

'Oh gods,' Mother sighed, a tear escaping her eye. 'She journeyed to Whiterun alone? She could be dead, or locked up somewhere, what if the Thalmor got her - '

'Let's not panic,' said Ondolemar. 'Sofie is a strong girl. It's quite likely she's in Whiterun, completely unharmed. The Thalmor know better than to kidnap and imprison someone of such high status and esteem when they aren't even at war with the Empire. Yet.' 

'Why would she run away?' Mother despaired. 'I swear to Auriel, if I find out Vilkas has said a single word to poison her against me, I'll cave his face in!' 

'You can borrow my mace if you like,' muttered Ondolemar, a vicious glint in his eyes. 

'Are you going after her?' I croaked. 

'Yes,' said Mother. She turned to Ondolemar. 'Will you take care of Sissel?'

'Of course,' he replied, pulling up a chair at my side. Mother grabbed her satchel from her desk and wrapped a thick leather belt around her waist, attaching a sheathed glass dagger to it. Before she left, she squeezed my hand and placed a kiss on Ondolemar's lips.

'Take care, my love,' he said as she departed. He sighed and looked down at me, an eyebrow raised. 'So, are you going to tell me what you were doing in the Midden?'

I sighed. 'I was going to see the Augur of Dunlain,' I confessed.

'Whatever for?'

'My nightmares are back again,' I explained. His face softened at my words. 'I think I'm going to have another vision soon. But I don't _want_ to have them anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore.'

'You don't need to be scared,' he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. 'And you certainly don't need to go poking around the Midden with neither permission to do so or a more experienced mage in your company. You could have been killed. You know neither I nor your mother could bear it if something like that happened.' 

'I'm sorry.'

'It doesn't matter anymore. We're just glad you're safe.'

I shifted uncomfortably against the table. 'When can I get up?'

'Not yet,' said Ondolemar. 

Regardless, I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but my vision spun again. Tiny pinpricks of light burst into life and fizzled out in front of my eyes, and a wave of sickness came over me. Groaning, I slumped back down. Ondolemar sighed.

'You'll have to stay here until your mother gets back,' he said. 'She's the knowledgable one in these things.'

'But she'll be days!' I protested.

'She'll probably summon Odahviing outside town. In which case, she'll be in Whiterun in twenty minutes.' He rose from his chair, brushing down his robes. 'I'm going to check on Agni. Poor girl's stuck in Colette's room, probably being lectured on the validity of the restoration school. I'll be back in a minute. Don't move.' 

'One condition,' I said. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

'And what might that be?'

'Bring me some food.'

'And what does her ladyship wish for me to bring?'

'Garlic bread and apple pie with cream, please.'

He wrinkled his nose. 'I hope you don't intend on eating them at the same time.'

'It's actually not a bad combination.'

'Erm, yuck,' he said, grimacing. 'Your wish is my command. I will return shortly.'

I let out a long breath as his footsteps faded away and I heard the door swing open and click shut again. Staring up at the ceiling, I thought of Sofie. Was she alright? Whiterun was a long way away. We hadn't been so far apart since we'd both been adopted. She had already been living with Mother for a month by the time the dragon attack happened.

The dragon attack. My birth father had died by the creature's jaws, but Britte had lived. I tried not to think about her. She was just as much a bully as he was. Once, I'd asked Mother why she didn't take Britte too, and she'd told me that she could see how unhappy I was at the orphanage. Britte had friends there, and I didn't. But I knew Mother had seen the cruel streak in my birth sister. 

Where was Britte now, I wondered? She was old enough by now to have left the orphanage. Did she have a job? Was she married? Did she have a home? 

Shaking my head, I put thoughts of Britte aside, and stared up at the ceiling, waiting.


	6. Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

In all my time living in Whiterun as a girl, I'd never visited Dragonsreach. The Jarl's children were spoiled brats, from what I'd heard, and never left the palace anyway, so I hadn't had cause to go there. A guard blocked my way as I ascended the stairs and stepped onto the walkway that led to the doors.

'Halt!' he ordered. 'What business do you have in Dragonsreach?'

'The Jarl has requested to see me,' I answered, glaring down at the sword that came uncomfortably close.

'Is that so?' His voice was young and smug, not gruff like most of them. 'In that case, I need to see some identification.'

'Fool,' chuckled another guard as she approached us. 'Don't you know you this is? This is the Dragonborn's daughter. You can go in, m'lady. Enjoy your visit.' I thanked the older guard and shot the other one a mocking smirk as she proceeded to lecture him on his poor conduct. 

Dragonsreach was almost unbearably hot, and I found myself wishing I hadn't worn my armour. Nonetheless, I marched up towards the throne, where the Jarl was speaking with his housecarl, a dark elf woman who scowled at my approach.

'What is the meaning of this?' she demanded, drawing her weapon. 'Who are you to approach the Jarl of Whiterun?'

'My name is Sofie,' I said. 'I believe I was summoned here.' 

'Ah, yes,' said the Jarl, rising from his throne. 'Relax, Irileth. This is Eira's daughter.' 

'In that case, welcome,' Irileth said.

'I wish to speak with you privately,' said Balgruuf. 'Follow me.' 

I obeyed, trailing him up another flight of stairs to a wide landing, where we crossed over to the far wall and stepped out onto the Great Porch. He led right the way to the end, to the low wall, where he placed his hand on the stone and overlooked the east.

'You can see the edge of my hold from up here,' he said, gesturing for me to stand beside him. 'All the way to Eastmarch. You're originally from Windhelm, correct?'

'Yes, my lord,' I answered.

'What made you come to Whiterun instead of going there?'

'Windhelm is a dreary place,' I answered. 'There's nothing there but cold grey stones, people who couldn't find the heart to give me food or shelter when I was homeless, and exiled Jarls.' 

Balgruuf frowned. 'It deeply concerns me that even now, the Stormcloak Jarls are held in Windhelm against their will. It reminds me of the prison camps used by the Dominion in the Great War. Less extreme, of course, but I wouldn't count on it staying that way. But back to my point - why Whiterun?'

I shifted uneasily. 'My lord, is there a problem with me being here?'

'Oh, no, not at all. However, I am curious as to why you have come here of all the holds. Whiterun has fallen on hard times - the rebellion cost us a lot of hard workers and traders, so the merchants from Cyrodiil don't come here as often as they once did. Solitude is the better choice for a young woman seeking to make her own way in the world.'

'I came here to be a Companion,' I said. 

'Ah, I see. Your mother was once their Harbinger, was she not? And married to a high-ranking member, too.' 

'Then she had the affair,' I spat.

Balgruuf raised an eyebrow. 'Love is complicated, Sofie. You mustn't resent your mother for following her heart.'

'I can't help but think of the life I might have had here,' I said. 'I spent six years locked up in that College like a prisoner.'

'That was nothing to do with your mother's divorce. That was to keep you safe. Which brings me to my point.' He stood up straight again and turned to look down at me, folding his arms. 'I am no genius, but I wasn't born yesterday, and I know your mother well enough to know she would not give you permission to come here on your own. You ran away, didn't you?'

'I'm old enough to decide where I go!' I protested. 

'No, you aren't. You've not yet seen your eighteenth year.'

'Two months, and I'll be of age. What difference does it make?'

'You tell me. If it makes no difference, why not wait?'

Before I could argue again, a deafening roar sounded in the sky. Balgruuf's face drained of colour and the guards sprang into action. We were ushered back under the stone roof as a shadow of wings hovered over the exposed part of the Porch, and a dragon descended, landing on the platform with a growl. A dragon I recognised.

'Stay your weapons!' I heard Mother's voice cry. Odahviing snarled at a guard who brought his blade too close, and he jumped back with a girlish screech. Mother slid off Odahviing's back, still in her Archmage's robes, her hair wild and tangled from flight. She and Balgruuf shared a respectful bow of the head before she looked at me, her eyes brimming with anger, hurt and relief all at once.

'Sofie,' she growled. 'Would you like to explain to me what in Oblivion you think you're doing, girl?'

Steadying myself, I crossed my arms and looked up at her defiantly, despite being over a head shorter than her and much less intimidating. 'I grew tired of the College. I'm a Companion now.'

'No you're not,' she hissed, seizing my arm. She glanced back at the dragon who observed the scene, flexing his wings. 'Saraan, Odahviing. Zu'u fen daal.'

'Hin rot los dii uth, Dovahkiin,' Odahviing answered. 'I will wait here.'

'Excuse me, old friend,' Mother said to Balgruuf. 'I need to have a little chat with my daughter and her... _associates_.' She grabbed hold of my arm roughly and pulled me back towards Dragonsreach, ignoring my outraged squeal, only gripping harder when I squirmed. 

'Are you trying to give me an early death?' she yelled as we stepped out of Dragonsreach into the daylight. 'I have enough worries without you gallivanting off on your own through the perils of the wilderness and out of the protection I provide you with!'

'I made it here, didn't I?' I argued. 'I'm in one piece!'

'This is about more than just you, Sofie. You have no idea what I have to deal with.'

'At least you aren't being held against your will! I'm nothing more than your prisoner!'

'Is that so? Ignorant, selfish child. You think you're a woman but you're not. You're a silly little girl who thinks she knows everything! I've been in this world for nearly seven decades, and in that time have lived a dozen different lives, all over the continent, done hundreds of jobs. You know NOTHING. So when I tell you to stay in the College for your own safety, I expect you to do as you're told!'

Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as we headed around the back of Jorrvaskr. Vilkas was out there, and stood from his chair, emerging from the shade as we approached. Mother finally released me, and I wiped my tears away, ashamed to show such weakness in front of the Companions as they formed a crowd. Vilkas glared at Mother, and she glared right back at him, hands on her hips.

'Well, well,' Vilkas laughed coldly. 'Look who decided to pay us a visit.'

'I'm not here to see you, Vilkas,' Mother drawled. 'I'm here to tell Aela to remove my daughter's name from the records.'

Aela stepped forward. 'I was wondering how long it would take before you came, Eira. It's good to see you. I never put Sofie's name in the books, so removal won't be necessary.'

'What?' I sobbed, confused. 'Ma, you can't do this. Please. I want to stay here. I don't want to go back.'

'Stop snivelling. You aren't ready to be a Companion. When you are, and you're of age, you can return. Until then, you're coming with me.'

Rage bubbled in the pit of my stomach. 'I hate you!' I roared. 'All you do is restrain me! I wish you had left me in Windhelm on the streets!'

Mother stared at me, her lips parted in shock. The reasonable part of me that was drowned out by my anger was yelling at me to stop. Aela lowered her brows to a glare.

'Sofie, apologise to your mother now,' she said.

'You're nobody's master, Aela,' I replied. 'I'm not sorry. It's true.'

'Sofie is a young woman,' Vilkas said. 'This is her decision to make. If she wants to stay with us, she can.'

'What have you said to her?' Mother rasped, her eyes clouding with tears as she looked up at him, shaking. 'What have you done to turn her against me? I'll - I'll rip your heart out!' 

'Stop it!' snapped Aela. 'Your personal quarrels have no place here.' 

Mother turned to me. The anger had left her face, replaced with defeat, and agony. 'Fine. Stay here. Be free.' She went to leave, then paused. 'When you miss what I provide for you, send me a letter, and I'll come and get you.'

'I won't,' I said quietly. 

'I love you,' she said, not waiting for an answer before she walked away. 

Vilkas reached forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, but I shook it off and ran inside, conflicted, unsure whether to feel pleased or guilty. Wasn't this what I wanted? But I hadn't wanted it _like this_.

Running downstairs, I collapsed on my bed, and sobbed.


	7. Clairvoyance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

The vision came that night. I was dreaming at first - I was a little girl again, and had managed to escape from Britte. I had crept to the western side of the village and was overlooking the Reach, blissfully unaware of the Forsworn camp nearby. I remember thinking that the land looked strange - the trees were gnarled and twisted; and everything was a strange, powdery green, interspersed by crumbled rocks. Although it was peculiar, I found it magical. It enchanted me. Perhaps it was because my birth mother was from the Reach, as Lemkil had once said.

A Forsworn warrior had emerged from behind a rock, watching me, and I froze. In a mad moment I considered begging for him to let me join his tribe. As he approached, he sheathed his sword and crouched down in front of me. 

'What's your name, little girl?' He asked, his azure eyes peering out at me from under his headdress. 

'Sissel,' I had breathed in reply.

'Don't be afraid, Sissel. I won't hurt you.' 

'Who are you?'

'My name is Eochaid.'

'You're a Forsworn.'

'That's right.'

'My Pa says Forsworn are bad.'

Eochaid reached forward and lifted up my arm, inspecting the ugly purple bruise on my skin. 'Did your Pa do that?'

I turned my gaze to the ground. 'Yes.'

'Your Pa hits you a lot, doesn't he?' said Eochaid, and I nodded. 'We've been watching your village. Your sister does it too. But there's a man who helps you too, isn't there?'

'His name's Jouane,' I told Eochaid. 'He teaches me magic.'

'And you like magic, do you?'

'I love magic!'

'Odd, for a little Nord girl.'

'My Ma was from the Reach,' I said. 'But she died.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.' He rose again, his shadow blocking out the sun, the antlers of his headdress piercing the blue of the sky. 'Maybe one day, you should come and find us, up on the hill. When you're bigger and stronger. We can teach you magic that you won't learn anywhere else.'

'Can't I come with you now?' I pleaded.

'No, not now,' he said. 'But the Forsworn are watching over you, child.' With that he had turned and walked away, vanishing behind the rock. I lingered for a moment, then tried to follow him, but he was already gone, swallowed by the Reach. Despairing, I headed back to Rorikstead.

Reldith was out working the fields in the blazing heat, sweat beading on her brow, forming golden droplets on her skin. Wanting to preoccupy myself away from my father, I wandered over and tugged at her dress.

'Can I help you, dear?' she asked sweetly in her accent that back then had sounded so strange to me. 

'May I help pick your crops?' I asked.

'Doesn't your father want you to help him in his field?'

'I...I don't want to help Pa. I never do it good enough.' 

She put down her hoe and bent down towards me, smiling. She opened her mouth to speak, but the world around me flickered. As I looked into her eyes, they changed colour. Her face warped, twisting into a new one, another Altmer woman, pale-skinned and amber-eyed, her eyelids coated in black and red. 

'You're dead!' she hissed in a voice that wasn't Reldith's, cold and hollow as a tomb. I retreated but the face followed me, and warped again. Another Altmer I didn't recognise, male this time, laughed down at me with black voids for eyes that squinted as he spat hatred at me.

'Stupid, filthy _Nord_ ,' he hissed.

The face changed once more, the eyes turning a piercing green not unlike Mother's, but they belonged to a man. He said nothing at first, just glared, blood dripping down onto his cheek. 

'Your traitorous mother can't help you now,' he finally rasped.

Out of nowhere, a roar erupted from the skies, splintering the dream, pulling me back to consciousness. When I woke up, I was screaming, and Onmund was standing over me, shaking me by the shoulders, his face panicked. Brelyna and J'zargo lingered in the doorway, observing the scene with matching expressions of horror, while Agni sat on the chair beside me, her leg bandaged completely and held in place with wooden splints, holding my hand. 

'It's alright,' Onmund hushed, relaxing his grip on me. 'You're safe.'

'What's all the racket?' came Tolfdir's voice as he pushed into my room and beheld me, covered in sweat and probably mad-eyed, my nightgown sticking to my skin. 'Oh my. Brelyna, go and wake the Archmage please.'

'Did you have the vision?' asked Agni. I nodded, unable to speak. 'Then the nightmares are over for now, right?'

A few minutes later, both Mother and Ondolemar swept into the room, demanding all others save Agni and Tolfdir vacate. Ondolemar sat on the bed next to me and pulled me into a tight embrace, untangling the strands of my hair whilst Mother spoke with Tolfdir.

'Did she shout out anything strange?' she was asking.

'I didn't hear all of it,' said Tolfdir. 'But it wasn't her voice she spoke with.'

'They were Altmer voices,' Agni said. 'One was a woman, the others were men.' 

'What did Sissel say?' Mother asked her.

'I heard her scream, 'you're dead'. Then a few moments later, she started saying something about Nords, in a male voice, and then...about you not being able to protect her. That's when I ran in here, and the others woke up.' 

I heaved in heavy, shaky breaths, each one a struggle. 'She...she had g-golden eyes,' I stammered. 'Ringed with...with black and red. His were b-black. Blacker than night.'

'Could be Elenwen and Rulindil,' said Ondolemar, continuing to stroke my hair. Mother nodded, taking my hand. I gripped it tight.

'How can it be? Rulindil's six years dead.'

'It doesn't have to be the future,' said Agni. 'Don't you remember the one she had about High King Torygg? That was from the past.'

'The last one,' I muttered. 'He...he was the worst. There was blood on his face.' 

'It's alright,' Mother said, rubbing her thumb against the back of my hand. 'You're alright now. It's all over.' 

'When did you come back, Ma?'

'Just a few hours ago. I didn't want to wake you.' 

'Is Sofie here now?'

They exchanged a glance, pain evident on both their faces. 'Sofie has chosen to stay in Whiterun for now,' said Ondolemar.

'Oh,' I said quietly, my heart sinking as I glanced at the empty bed in the room. 

'The main thing is she's okay,' said Mother, biting her lip and trying to force a smile onto her face. 'And so are you. Come on, come up to our quarters and I'll have a bath drawn for you and find you some clean nightclothes.' 

I didn't let go of Ondolemar's hand as we walked out of the Hall of Attainment into the blanched courtyard, still and silent in the night. As snowflakes kissed my cheeks, I wondered if it was snowing in Whiterun too. Probably not at this time of year. 

Sofie must have been glad to be rid of her cowardly sister at last.


	8. Lucia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

I tried my best to forget the things I had said to Mother, getting on with the life I had planned out for myself - Vilkas tested my arm, and I was added to the records as awaiting my trial, which I was told would take place as soon as a reasonable task came up. In the meantime, I ran whelp's jobs around the city - running weapons and armour up to Eorlund, fetching the mead, that sort of thing. 

I was out on such a round of errands when I spotted another friend, lurking around the back of the Bannered Mare, huddled in some dirty old blankets with a book. At first, I didn't recognise her, but there could only be one beggar girl who slept behind the inn on the same frayed old bedroll. 

'Lucia?' I said, approaching her. She looked up, closing her book, and smiled.

'Sofie,' she greeted. 'I heard you were in town. It's lovely to see you again.' Her speech had changed, I realised - it was more polished and proper than it had been when we were children. I supposed mine was the same, having been raised by a pair of well-spoken Auridon elites, but where had Lucia picked it up?

'You're still on the streets?' I asked foolishly, unsure what else to say. I wish I knew what else to say to her, felt I should know, coming from the streets myself.

'Sadly, yes,' she confirmed. 'If you have a few moments, I'll tell you all that transpired in my life between your departure and your return.' 

'I have more than a few moments,' I said, slumping down beside her. 'The Companions have me doing trivial tasks.'

'Very well,' she sighed. 'Where to begin? Well, at the time you left, I was of course still here, begging. Not long after, someone came along and tried to take me to Honorhall Orphanage. I escaped and came back to Whiterun. Looking back, I probably should have carried on to Riften and joined the Thieves Guild.'

'Why wouldn't you go to the orphanage?' I asked.

'Would you?' she said. 'Wretched place. That abusive old hagraven who used to run it may be history now, but the thought gave me chills. Anyway, I continued as I always did. On cold nights, Hulda would let me in to sleep by the fire. I woke up every morning to beg, as always. Then, last summer, _he_ came.'

'He? Who?'

'An adventurer. His name...is Kayd. He stayed for a few weeks, and we spent a lot of time together. He...he offered to take me away. He's from Solitude, you see. He said his parents would give me a place to stay if I so wished, and I could go to the Bards College. So that's what I did. They taught me to read and write, to sing, to play the lute and the flute and the drums. I was so happy.'

I hesitated. 'Then why are you back here, homeless again?'

She let out a long breath and moved the blankets that shielded her from the wind, shivering. I stared at her in shock, the bony shoulders and collar bone beneath her filthy dress, her emaciated body heavy with a rounded tummy.

'You're with child,' I whispered in disbelief. 'Oh gods, Lucia. Will nobody let you in?' 

She shook her head. 'No one. I wouldn't care if it were just me, but...' Trailing off, she glanced down at her heavy belly, and pulled the blankets around herself again. 

'I'll find you somewhere to live,' I said determinedly. 'I can't leave you out here, not when there's a baby on the way. If I could, I'd put you up in Breezehome, but...well, let's just say Mother and I had a falling out.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, she didn't want me to come here,' I admitted. 'I said some things to her when she turned up the other day that I regret.'

'You don't have to help me, Sofie,' Lucia said. 'I'll just have to...when the child is born...I'll have to send it away.'

'No,' I said fiercely. 'No, Lucia. The minute you set eyes on that baby you won't want to let them go ever again. But I still don't understand - why did you end up back here?'

'Kayd kicked me out,' Lucia murmured, a tear rolling down her cheek. 'His parents never knew I was with child, or they might have insisted I stayed. Maybe I should have told them, but I loved Kayd. He was distraught, said he couldn't be a father, told me to go and find a woman who knows the herb trade to...get rid of it. I couldn't do it, Sofie. I went to Morthal, trekking there alone, to see a woman called Lami. I was about to drink the mixture when I decided I couldn't do it.' 

'What a useless prick,' I hissed. 'Sorry, Lucia, but a man who loves you doesn't do that to you. Even I know that much.' I stood and offered her my hand. She took it, smiling sadly. 'First things first, I'm taking you to Jorrvaskr.'

I helped her carry some of the blankets up the stairs. People in the market stared as we passed, including Lars, Braith and Mila, who stood together beside Arcadia's Cauldron. None of them had even lifted a finger to help poor Lucia in all these years. Then again, when had they ever regarded her before? When we were kids, only Sissel and I tried to involve her in any of our games. Only our mother gave us money to buy her food, or a spare, clean dress or some blankets in the cold weather. All these 'noble' and 'honourable' families in Whiterun with mansions full of silver dining sets and useless glimmering trinkets who didn't have the decency to give a homeless child a bed for the night or a hot meal for fear she might steal their precious _things_. Sometimes, the people of Skyrim were as cold and unforgiving as the wilderness of their homeland. 

Aela was out firing practice arrows at the dummies whilst Vilkas and Farkas sparred a short distance away. They all stopped as I approached and came over, a question forming on Aela's face long before she opened her mouth to speak.

'Who is this, Sofie?' she asked.

'This is Lucia,' I said, turning to Vilkas. 'You must remember her.'

'The beggar girl? Aye, that I do. Though I'd thought her long gone.'

'I was,' Lucia muttered. 'For a while.'

'She has nowhere to stay,' I said, waiting for a reply. Seeing only blank stares, I pressed on. 'She's still homeless. Can she stay here? We have spare beds.'

Aela crossed her arms and sighed. 'Sofie...I'd love to let her in, but if Jorrvaskr starts opening up its doors to those on the street, it will stop being what it is and turn into a homeless shelter.'

I stared at her in shock, then at Farkas, who looked genuinely concerned. Vilkas only shrugged.

'What Aela says is right,' he said. 'Once people catch word of it, they'll start swarming the place.'

'Swarming?' I echoed, glaring at him. 'These are people you're talking about, not pests!' 

'I didn't mean it like that and you know it,' Vilkas snapped, making me flinch. 

'She's pregnant, Aela,' I pleaded. Aela's eyes widened a little, then she grimaced.

'That's awful,' she said. 'But I'm afraid I still can't make an exception. Her best chance is to go to the orphanage in Riften to bear the child.'

'Stop talking about Lucia as if she's not here,' I snarled. 'Aren't you supposed to be honourable?'

'Enough,' Aela growled. 'You may be the daughter of a dear friend, Sofie, but I will NOT be instructed on honour by a whelp.'

'Fine,' I hissed. 'Then I quit.'

'Sofie - ' Vilkas began, trying to stop me from leaving, but I twisted out of his grasp and stared at him, fury clawing at the surface.

'Let go of me!' I screeched. 'I thought you cared about me. That's why I came back. Sissel was right - if you cared, you'd have sought me out long ago.' 

'Sofie!' Vilkas called out as I strode away, gesturing to Lucia to follow me. My anger was bubbling uselessly again, at them for turning away a pregnant young woman, at Kayd for getting her into this mess, at myself for being foolish and forsaking the care and love Mother had given me for a selfish man like Vilkas. 

'Come on,' I said to Lucia. 

'Where are we going?'

'First, I'm going to stop by Breezehome,' I explained. 'I have some old jewels that Belethor will probably take off my hands. Then, with the money, I'm getting you a decent meal, some new clothes, and passage to Solitude for both of us.'

'But, Sofie...I can't go back to Solitude...'

'Yes, you can, and you will. I'll send Ma a letter to say sorry for what happened, tell her where I'm going, and then we'll stay at Proudspire Manor. You can go to the Bards College again, and I'll kick Kayd's sorry backside for being such a bastard.'

Lucia beamed. 'Thank you for helping me Sofie.'

I searched her face for a moment, the lines that the weather had worn into her cracked skin already, the tangles of her oily hair. 'It's no problem. Let's get started.'


	9. A Letter to Sofie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

Sitting on the wall at the top of Mother's quarters, the highest point in the College, I overlooked the Sea of Ghosts. I pulled my blanket around my shoulders as I braced the chill of the Atmoran sea breeze, the paper, quill and ink pot I had taken from the Arcanaeum untouched on the floor behind me. The corners of the paper lifted in the wind as I glanced back, wondering what I should write to my sister. Could I convince her to come back if I showed her I was no longer a coward? But how long could I pretend I wasn't afraid before my lie became apparent? I could beg, but that would only put her off more. 

I decided to do the letter when my head was clearer. Three weeks had passed since Sofie left. She was a Companion now, probably off saving people from bandits or slaying beasts, being a hero. I so desperately wished I could be a hero like her. 

We used to do everything together. When we played with the others in Whiterun, we were always on the same team. We did the chores around the house as a pair. We'd wait until Mother and Ondolemar had gone to bed and strike up a box of matches that we had swiped from the inn, lighting a candle and staying up late to gossip about boys, or tell each other horror stories. I was braver then. Perhaps being in this College for so long hadn't done me much good, either.

Hearing the door creak open behind me, I turned, wrapping the blanket tighter around me as the wind bit at my cheeks. Ondolemar emerged, frowning with concern.

'Aren't you cold?' he asked.

'I'm okay,' I said. 'The cold doesn't bother me.' 

'Be careful on that wall,' he warned, coming to lean next to where I was sitting. 'We're going to take you to Morthal.'

'Morthal? What for?'

'The Jarl has visions like yours,' he explained. 'As does her son, Joric. We would consult the Augur, but the passage is blocked, and we haven't the funds to repair the chamber. Hopefully Idgrod can offer some assistance to you.' 

'I hope so,' I muttered. 'When are we leaving?'

'After dark tonight.'

'Any word from Sofie?' I asked hopefully. 

'Nothing,' he sighed. 'She'll come back, Sissel.'

'It's my fault,' I hissed, clenching my fists. 'I drove her away by being a stupid little milk-drinker.'

'Don't you dare blame yourself,' he scolded. 'Or call yourself a milk-drinker.'

'That's what she called me. I'm a coward.'

'Cowards don't willingly go into the Midden, knowing it's full of undead and gods know what else, to try and solve their problems. Cowards sit in the corner and moan, blaming everyone and everything else, doing nothing to make their life better. You're quite the opposite. Sofie has no idea how traumatic these visions are for you.'

'She never even said goodbye,' I croaked, holding back tears.

'Sofie thinks she knows everything there is to know about the world,' said Ondolemar. 'The truth is, not even I know that, and I've been here for seventy-three years. Perhaps it is good that she has gone away for a while. Once she sees that the world is full of depravity, tragedy, and suffering, she will wise up and come home a little less self-centred and childish.' 

'Do you think the Thalmor will get her?' I asked, my voice trembling a little. 

He paused for a moment, looking down at his hands as he laced his fingers together. 'No. Not if she stays in Whiterun. Besides, we would destroy every last one of them if they so much as touched either of you.'

I wiped away a tear that strayed from my eye, and smiled. 'I think Sofie would destroy them first.' 

Ondolemar grinned. 'Probably.' He placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. 'I'll be downstairs. Give me a shout if you need anything.' 

'Okay,' I mumbled as he walked back inside, the door clicking shut behind him. My shoulders sagged as I let out a sigh and reached behind for the materials to compose my letter. Dipping the quill in the ink pot and flattening out the page, I furrowed my brows.

 _Dear Sofie,_ I began, unsure where to start, not really knowing what it was I wanted to say.

 _I hope you are well_ , I added. _Mother told me you decided to stay in Whiterun in the end. I hope you find the happiness you're seeking._

_The vision finally came a few nights ago. I was a child in Rorikstead again. Do you remember I told you about Eochaid, the Forsworn warrior? Well I dreamed of that time I met him. When I returned, I went to see Reldith, only her face changed three times, all of them Altmer:_

_The first was a woman. Her eyes were russet and gold, like the colour of the trees in the Rift, and she was wearing a lot of makeup. Her skin was so pale, it didn't look like Altmer skin at all. In fact, she almost looked like a vampire, without the teeth. She screamed 'you're dead' in my face. Ondolemar seems to think it was the Thalmor ambassador for Skyrim, who he knew well._

_The second was a man. He had a white-blonde beard, black eyes, and he laughed at me, calling me a 'filthy, stupid Nord' or something of the sort. Apparently he's already dead - Mother killed him at that party at the embassy years ago._

_The last one was the worst. He almost looked...familiar. There was blood on his cheek, and cruelty in his eyes. Have you ever looked someone in the eye and known they were evil? That's just how I felt. He said Mother wouldn't be able to save me. I don't know what from._

_I went to the Midden with Agni to try and get help from the Augur of Dunlain, but it caved in on us. We were both rescued, but I took a bad hit to the head, and the Midden is blocked off for now. We're going to Morthal, where the Jarl and her son have visions like me. Maybe they can help._

_Good luck with the Companions and with your new life._

_Love,_

_Sissel_

Once the ink was dry, I rolled the letter up and tied it with a blue ribbon in my pocket, ready to hand to the courier at the inn later. 

The sun was starting to journey down to the horizon, the western sky turning gold as the first silver specks appeared in the east, behind the mountains of Morrowind. I swung my legs back over the wall and picked up my things, heading inside to prepare for the journey.


	10. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Solitude was all I had dreamed it to be and more. The winding streets were decorated by bright bunting, the cobbles lined with soft emerald moss, and people smiled as we passed and seemed happy, probably thanks to the wealth that still flowed through the city whilst the rest of Skyrim struggled to recover from the wounds the uprising had left behind. 

'Beirand and Sayma's shop is this way,' said Lucia, leading me through the wide street. An Altmer woman raised her eyebrows at my passing, taking a sweeping glance at us both.

'Hmm,' she said. 'If you ever feel like replacing those old rags, stop by Radiant Raiment.' She smiled too sweetly at Lucia. 'Oh, I remember you! You're the young bard who used to live with Sayma and Beirand!'

Lucia's cloak lifted in the breeze, revealing her swollen belly. The woman's eyes widened a little, shock and confusion briefly showing on her face before she reconstructed her pearly grin.

'I suppose congratulations are in order, my dear!' she exclaimed. 'Luckily for you, we just launched a lovely new maternity range, so you can still look gorgeous. No need to let yourself go, hm?'

The corner of Lucia's mouth lifted into a slight grin. 'I'll keep it in mind.'

'Who was that?' I murmured once we were out of range.

'Taarie,' Lucia answered. 'She and her sister run an upmarket tailors. They supply Jarls, nobles, bards, make wedding outfits, stuff like that. I think High Queen Elisif buys from them.'

'Hmph.' 

She led me towards one of the blue doors that had a sign hanging outside, saying 'Bits and Pieces'. As she went to push open the door, she winced, placing her hand on her belly. 

'Are you alright?' I asked her. 

She nodded, taking in a deep breath and releasing it through her mouth. 'I'm fine. The baby's kicking, that's all.'

'Oh,' I said, unsure what else I could say. 'Here, let me get the door.' I reached out and pushed it open, holding it aside to let her in. She thanked me as we passed out of Solitude's busy street and into the dim light and warmth of the shop. A Redguard woman was stood behind the counter, wiping up, not looking up at first.

'I'll be with you in a moment,' she said, scrubbing something off the counter. 'Feel free to browse.'

'Sayma,' Lucia said, stepping into the stream of light that entered through the window. The woman looked up and froze, her face draining.

'L-Lucia?' she breathed, looking from Lucia's face to her belly, dropping the cloth she was holding. 'What...when...'

'I should never have left Solitude,' Lucia mumbled. 'Sayma, I'm sorry. I should have told you.'

Sayma came out from behind the counter, stepping hesitantly towards Lucia. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were reddening rapidly.

'By the gods,' she whispered, placing a hand gently on Lucia's tummy. 'It's...it's Kayd's?' Lucia nodded. 'Oh, you poor dear...'

'Ma?' came a young man's voice as thudding footsteps came from the staircase. 

'You better come here, Kayd.'

Lucia froze as Kayd appeared in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at her. 

'You're back,' he noted, his eyes clouding with what looked like fear to me. 

'I'm back,' Lucia spat.

'You wretched boy!' screeched Sayma. 'Look what you've done to this poor girl! You're both children yourselves!'

'He told her to leave,' I said, stepping into the light beside Lucia. 'He told her to go and get rid of the child, and then come back.' 

'Is that true?' hissed Sayma. Kayd's attention was focused on me.

'Who in Oblivion are you?' he demanded.

'My name is Sofie Galethien. I'm an old friend of the mother-to-be of your child.'

'Sofie Galethien?' he echoed, frowning. 'The Dragonborn's daughter?'

'Precisely.' He tensed, as though afraid of me. Association with a legendary hero tended to have that effect on people.

'Answer me, Kayd,' said Sayma. 'Did you tell Lucia to get rid of the child?'

Kayd shifted uncomfortably. 'No.'

'Liar!' I hissed. 

'Tell the truth,' Lucia pleaded, a tear rolling down her cheek. 'Kayd, if you ever cared for me at all, tell the truth.' 

'Sofie,' Sayma said, turning to me. She was shaking slightly, her eyes wild. 'Would you go up to the forge at Castle Dour and fetch my husband, the blacksmith?' 

'Gladly,' I answered, fixing Kayd a venomous glare as I strode out into the daylight again. 

The forge was hard to miss, perched up above the main street. I powered up the ramps, making guards step out of my way to let me through. The man who I assumed to be Sayma's husband was hammering a blade, tapping out a steady rhythm on the steel.

'Are you Kayd's father?' I asked him. He turned and frowned. 

'Aye,' he answered. 'Name's Beirand. Is something wrong?'

'I'm Sofie, a friend of Lucia.' 

'Lucia?' he said. 'Is she here?'

'Yes. Sayma needs you to come quickly.' 

'I...I'm not sure what this is about,' he said, but abandoned the blade and hammer anyway, following me back to Bits and Pieces, where Sayma had her arm around Lucia and was bellowing at Kayd.

'What's going on?' Beirand demanded. 

'Oh, it's terrible!' cried Sayma. 'Kayd has gotten the poor girl with child, and sent her away!'

'What?' growled Beirand, advancing into the shop. 

'Lucia went back to Whiterun,' I added, glaring at Kayd the whole time. 'And slept on the streets for months.'

Sayma suppressed a sob. 'Is that true, my dear?' she asked Lucia, who only nodded in confirmation, too upset to manage anything else. 

'KAYD!' roared Beirand as his son bolted upstairs like a stupid little boy. Beirand tore after him, and I heard crashing and smashed glass, and a thud, followed by a shriek. 

Sayma let go of Lucia, clinging to the counter. I cleared my throat, grabbing Lucia's hand.

'Perhaps we should let you deal with Kayd,' I said to Sayma. 

'Have you got a place to stay?' she asked weakly.

'Yes, I have a family home here. Proudspire Manor.'

'Alright,' Sayma sighed. 'We'll bring Kayd over there in the morning and sort out some arrangements. And don't you worry about a thing, Lucia - Kayd will give you the support you deserve, and so will we.'

'Thank you,' Lucia croaked. I pulled gently at her hand, and we left the shop as yelling started from upstairs again.

'That couldn't have gone worse,' Lucia sobbed as we left, wiping her eyes.

'It's done now,' I said. 'You've had enough trauma for the day in your condition. Let's go to Proudspire Manor and get you relaxed.'


	11. Morthal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

Mother's hands were shaking as she clutched the letter we had received from Sofie, pacing back and forth in Morthal's inn. Her eyes scanned it frantically.

'Read it,' said Ondolemar, studying her expression.

' _Dear Ma,_ ', she began, her voice quivering. ' _First of all, I am sorry for the things I said to you. I see now that you only came out of fear for my safety, and all you have ever tried to do is protect me. I don't hate you at all._  
_Secondly, I've already left the Companions. Long story short, I ran into Lucia, the beggar girl who we used to buy food and clothes for sometimes. She's with child, by a young man called Kayd from Solitude. The Companions refused to take her in, but I couldn't abandon her, so I went to Breezehome and sold a few of my old trinkets to buy passage to Solitude. We're heading there now. We'll stay at Proudspire Manor._  
_I hope all of you are well and this letter reaches you safely._  
_Love,  
_Sofie.'__

_____ _

'She's gone to Solitude?' I said. 'But...but that's right next to the Thalmor embassy!'

_____ _

'We need to go after her,' Ondolemar said. 'There's no use sending a letter; they'll intercept it.'

_____ _

'She's safe as long as she stays inside the city walls,' Mother breathed. 'The Empire isn't prepared to let them start dragging citizens away from the cities and towns, not now that they know a war with the Dominion is inevitable. As for along the roads, the Thalmor can do what they like. There's nobody to watch them, or hold them accountable.' 

_____ _

'We'll have to leave tonight,' said Ondolemar. 'As soon as we're done here.' 

_____ _

'Yes,' Mother agreed, folding the letter up and huffing. 'Come on, let's go.' 

_____ _

Mother led the way out of the inn towards Highmoon Hall. I glanced around at Morthal warily through the fog that rolled in from the marshes. The people were less welcoming here than they were in the rest of Skyrim, and whilst some waved cheerily at Mother, they stared at Ondolemar and I, observing us. I heard Ondolemar mutter something under his breath. 

_____ _

The fire pit was roaring inside, its warmth a gladly received change from even a brief moment outside in the cold that refused to retreat from these northern stretches even at the cusp of spring and summer. Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone lounged on her throne at the far end of the hall, watching our approach. A young man lingered in the shadows behind her, his black eyes framed by curls of dark hair. His eyes never left me, his stare intense, and I found myself recoiling from it.

_____ _

'Thane Eira,' greeted the Jarl as Mother bowed to her graciously. 'Or Dragonborn, as some would call you. This is your daughter?' 

_____ _

'Indeed, my Jarl,' Mother answered. 'Is there anything you can do for her?'

_____ _

'Joric!' barked Idgrod. The man in the shadows stepped forward. He was tall and lean, his face pale as Jone. 'Test this young lady for the Sight.' 

_____ _

'W-what are you going to do?' I stammered as Joric swept over to me and grabbed my hand. 

_____ _

'I'll show you things,' he purred. 'Images, sounds. Nothing...unpleasant. You tell me what you saw afterwards.'

_____ _

Without even giving me a moment to prepare myself, Joric shut his eyes and hit me with a barrage of visions. The world around me shut off as a face flashed into my mind's eye, a woman's face, dark-haired and pale like him. She looked concerned, her brow furrowed, eyes wide. The picture shifted, and her black hair lifted in a breeze and shimmered, turning into leathery wings. Her face warped and turned black and scaly, her eyes igniting with red fire, teeth elongating to fangs. She was a dragon now, with horns as long as I was tall, eyes of flaming crimson and a spiny body. He sped towards me, growling through gleaming teeth. 

_____ _

Panicking, I struggled against Joric's grip. As I did, the vision changed again - the dragon faded to the ashy hue of the trees in the Reach, and the fire in his eyes was extinguished. He wasn't growling anymore. I recognised this dragon - he was the one from my dreams, the old, grey, kind one who lived up on the Throat of the World with the monks. Paarthurnax, Mother had told me he was called. 

_____ _

'Let go!' I screeched, finally pulling away from Joric's grasp and colliding with someone else. As my real eyesight restored itself and the image of Paarthurnax faded away, I relaxed, seeing Mother's slender golden hands on my shoulders. Joric was staring at me in disbelief, whilst the Jarl looked on, frowning.

_____ _

'I don't believe it,' Joric murmured.

_____ _

'Well?' demanded Idgrod.

_____ _

'She...she _altered_ my vision,' he said. 'She isn't even trained.'

_____ _

'You said there wouldn't be anything unpleasant,' I hissed. 

_____ _

'What did you show her?' Ondolemar snapped defensively.

_____ _

'He showed me...that was Alduin, wasn't it?' I felt Mother shudder behind me at the World-Eater's name. Joric nodded. 'First, a woman. Then Alduin. Then I made Alduin turn into Paarthurnax.' 

_____ _

'The woman was my sister,' said Joric. 'Idgrod the Younger. I didn't mean to show Alduin. Your gift...it overwhelmed me.'

_____ _

'Hmph,' I huffed with indignation. 

_____ _

'Then her Sight is strong,' said Jarl Idgrod. 'Joric and I can help her control her visions to an extent, and train her mind and body to cope with them, but only if she stays here for some time.'

_____ _

'Stays here?' echoed Mother. 'My Jarl...Sissel is an anxious child.'

_____ _

'As was my son, and as was I,' Idgrod replied. 'As are all of our kind. But we must learn to live proper lives, to be confident, to be leaders.'

_____ _

'Can't you make them go away?' I pleaded. The Jarl's eyes settled on me.

_____ _

'No, child,' she answered. 'I cannot. Even if I could, I wouldn't. This gift is too valuable. It can be the guiding light in times of trouble and strife. And I fear that many dark times are ahead.' 

_____ _

'Very well,' Mother sighed. She turned me round and looked down at me. 'Sissel, I know this won't be easy for any of us, but this is the only way you can learn to control your visions.'

_____ _

'I can't,' I muttered, starting to tremble. 

_____ _

'Yes, you can,' said Ondolemar, placing his hand on my shoulder. 'You have to.'

_____ _

'You need to be brave, Sissel,' said Mother.

_____ _

'I don't know how to be brave.' Tears were falling readily down my cheeks now. Idgrod was watching me with gleaming eyes, her face unreadable. 

_____ _

'You must learn to be brave,' she said. 'You will be safe with us, child.' 

_____ _

'I'll pay for you to stay at the inn,' Mother said. 'You can send us letters whenever you like, and I'll write to you twice a week. How does that sound?'

_____ _

Steadying myself, I wiped away my tears, all too aware of Joric's eyes on me. 'How long for?'

_____ _

Mother and Ondolemar looked expectantly at Idgrod, who answered, 'However long it takes.'

_____ _

'Alright,' I muttered. 'I'll stay.'

_____ _

Mother beamed at me, her own eyes clouded by tears as she caressed my cheek. 'See? You _can_ do it, little one.' 

_____ _

'We'll await your word,' said Ondolemar to Idgrod. 

_____ _

'As soon as she is ready, I will inform you,' Idgrod replied. 

_____ _

Mother produced a purse full of septims from her satchel and placed it in my hand. 'When we're in Solitude, I'll go into Radiant Raiment and have some dresses sent to you. Until then, you'll have to make do with what you have with you.'

_____ _

'Okay,' I answered feebly. She leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.

_____ _

'We'll see you soon.'

_____ _

Ondolemar gave me a tight hug and ruffled my hair, forcing a small smile onto my face. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.' 

_____ _

As they headed out of the door and vanished from sight, I turned, shaking, to Idgrod and Joric. The Jarl rose from her throne and clapped her hands together.

_____ _

'Let's get to work.'

_____ _


	12. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains mild scenes of childbirth.

At eight o'clock in the evening of Fredas 16th Second Seed, Lucia went into labour. I sent Jordis to fetch Kayd, Beirand and Sayma immediately, holding Lucia's hand through each contraction. 

'Has it happened yet?!' Kayd yelled as he burst through the door, his eyes deranged. I sighed.

'No, Kayd,' I drawled. 'She's only just gone into labour.' 

'Well how long does that take?!' he demanded.

'Hours, idiot,' hissed Lucia. 'Sorry if it inconveniences you.'

'Don't be like that,' he said. 'I...I didn't know, that's all.' 

Sayma and Beirand entered a moment later, their faces full of concern. Sayma came to Lucia's other side and held her hand, smiling up at her.

'Nine months of waiting and it's finally going to happen,' she said. Lucia let out a long breath.

'How long did it take for you?' she groaned.

'Erm...about ten hours?'

Lucia tipped her head back, leaning against the wall, and growled with frustration. 'Ten hours of this bullshit?!'

'Maybe less,' Sayma tried to reassure her, shooting me a worried glance.

'Is there anything we can get for her?' asked Beirand. 

'Fill a water skin with some warm water and wrap it up in a blanket,' Sayma ordered as Lucia's grip tightened again, her face contorting with another contraction. 'Quick as you can.'

Beirand dashed away as Jordis re-entered, cringing as Lucia let out a small cry of pain. 

'I'll...uh...leave you to it,' she said, practically fleeing from the room.

'This is going to be a long night,' I sighed.

**********

Lucia's labour was swiftly progressing by the time the door opened again, and in came, of all people, my mother and Ondolemar, who halted, dumbstruck. Ondolemar looked as though he might faint.

'Sofie?' Mother said timidly. 'This...this is Lucia?'

'Ma,' I said desperately. 'She needs pain relief.' 

'Uh...oh, yes, of course.' She abandoned her satchel on the floor. 'Ondolemar, lock the doors and windows, would you?'

He looked relieved to have an excuse to get out of the room as Lucia let out a howl of agony. Mother dashed off downstairs, presumably to her alchemy lab, and returned promptly with a dark green bottle. 

'Head back, dear,' she ordered, pushing Lucia's compliant head back with a finger and tipping the whole bottle down her throat. Lucia spluttered and gagged.

'It's vile!' she croaked.

'It'll do the trick,' Sayma said, pushing strand of hair out of Lucia's face. 

'How long has she been in labour?'

'About five hours,' I answered. 'Where's Sissel?'

Mother waved a hand dismissively. 'I'll explain later. She's fine. Did you get her letter?'

'I didn't get any letters.'

'Oh gods!' Lucia cried, letting a shrill scream escape. Sayma dashed to the end of the bed and hoisted up Lucia's dress. 

'Come on,' Sayma said. 'I think you're ready.'

Lucia was shaking her head frantically, speechless, crushing my hand. Kayd rushed to her other side and she gripped his hand too, hard enough to make him wince. 

'I'm getting out of here,' Ondolemar muttered from where he lingered in the doorway, vanishing out of sight.

'Uh...me too,' said Beirand, who had gone particularly white.

'Milk-drinkers!' Mother yelled after them, rolling her eyes. 

I'd always thought myself to have a pretty strong stomach; nothing ever really made me feel faint. Watching Lucia give birth was the first time I was proved wrong. I found myself averting my eyes and simply letting her crush my hand, staring at the floor, into space, anywhere except her quivering body and the blood on Sayma's hands. Even Mother had turned an unhealthy shade of white as she watched the scene, a healing potion in each hand. 

'I can see the head!' declared Sayma.

'Auriel's grace...' Mother muttered, her mouth hanging open in shock. It was easy to forget sometimes that she wasn't our _real_ mother, hadn't given birth to us, had never done it at all. 

'One last push, Lucia,' Sayma encouraged. 

'I can't,' Lucia breathed. 'I'm so...exhausted...'

'One last time,' Sayma demanded. 'Go on. Get this over with.' 

She breathed in and out, over and over again, for at least half a minute before she let out one last terrible screech, and a baby's cries erupted into life. Lucia gasped for breath, and I glanced at Kayd, whose eyes were wet with unshed tears as he watched his mother tie and sever the child's cord.

Ma grabbed a towel from the table and handed it awkwardly to Sayma, who took hold of it and wiped the screaming baby's face, then wrapped it up. Lucia held out her arms, laughing with disbelief and joy now, and Sayma handed the child to her, face glowing with pride.

'You have a daughter,' she whispered. 

Kayd turned to Lucia and stared down at the girl, silently crying. Lucia looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back, reaching forward to take the child's tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. 

'Beirand!' yelled Sayma. 'Get your backside in here!' 

The blacksmith obeyed and appeared from the shadows in the doorway. Ondolemar came in quietly behind him, looking around uncertainly. Sayma took her husband's hand.

'We have a granddaughter,' she said.

'Gods,' Beirand sighed. I squeezed Lucia's shoulder gently and stood, letting Sayma and Beirand stand beside the bed, and walked over to Mother and Ondolemar, rubbing my eyes.

'What a day,' I sighed. 

'What are you going to call her?' I heard Beirand ask. 

'Well...' Kayd began, looking at Lucia. 'If she'd been a boy, we'd have chosen Haldor, but...'

'Eira,' said Lucia. 'We want to call her Eira.' 

Mother looked up, her eyes wide, gaping at them. 'You...you want to name her after me?'

'Without you, what kind of world would our daughter have been born into?' said Kayd. 'Either a world that was ending, or one under a new Dragon Cult, where she would have been born into slavery. You're the reason she can live a free and happy life.'

'I...' Mother swallowed, and looked up at the ceiling. 'Words can't express how deeply honoured I am.' 

'Sofie,' said Lucia. 'Will you be her godmother?' 

'Of course!' I exclaimed, delighted, beaming at her. I even smiled at Kayd, I was so overjoyed. 

Sayma turned around to face us. 'You three go and get some sleep. We'll take care of her.' 

Gladly, I trudged off to my room, pausing on the upstairs landing and turning to face Mother and Ondolemar.

'Why did you come?' I asked. 

'We got your letter,' Ondolemar said.

'We'll talk about it in the morning,' Mother sighed. 'Just don't go running off anywhere before then.' 

'I think my running off days are over,' I replied, beaming. They swept me into a tight hug, and kissed me on the forehead, saying goodnight. 

Collapsing on my bed, I fell asleep still in my clothes, and let my dreams carry me away.


	13. Trouble in Morthal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

'You've got to clear your head,' Joric said for what felt like the fiftieth time.

'I'm trying,' I growled. 'How in Oblivion can you get rid of thoughts in your head anyway?'

'Imagine sweeping them to the side,' he said. 'Into a waste pit. One by one.'

'But that means I'm thinking about waste pits.'

He sighed impatiently. 'Don't focus on the waste pit, focus on the blankness of your mind!'

'Then what?' 

'Then you enter a state of meditation,' Joric explained. 'And you can open up your mind's eye and receive visions whilst conscious rather than having them disturb your sleep.' 

'Why would I want to invite them in?' I protested. 'They make me feel sick.' 

'We'll come to that later. Now - _sit still_ \- take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Don't tense up like that.'

'I can't do it!' I cried in frustration, getting to my feet. 'It's hopeless! I quit!' 

'Sissel - '

I was already out of the door by the time Joric could react, running to the edge of town, heading for the marshes, uncaring for the dangers that lurked there. Chaurus, undead, bandits, vampires. _Who cares?_ , I thought to myself. _Let them come for me._

'Sissel!' Joric bellowed as my boots thudded along the bridge between the rest of town and the mill. Jorgen shot me a confused glance as I dashed past, out into the marsh, my boots splashing in the mud and cold water of the Karth estuary. I could have run to Windstad Manor, but instead I headed west.

'Come back!' Joric yelled. He'd lost me now, to the murky swathes of Hjaalmarch, to the mud and mist and salty breeze rolling in from the Sea of Ghosts. 

I clung to a tree as the freezing mud sunk into my old homespun dress, into my boots. Looking up, I saw Solitude perched up in the sky, the sound of the harbour bells faintly chiming across the water. Mother and Ondolemar were up there, with Sofie, and Lucia. Out of reach.

Joric found me eventually, still clinging to the ashen tree trunk, my teeth chattering. He sighed and removed his fur cloak, wrapping it around my shoulders and gently pulling me away from the water's edge, leading me back towards Morthal. 

'I think that's enough practice for today,' he said.

'I'm so weak,' I muttered. 'I'm pathetic.'

'This was just the same for me,' he assured me. 'Once you master it, you'll find it easy, I promise.' 

'I'll never master it.'

'You will. You've got to.' 

We headed back to Highmoon Hall. The Jarl was out, consulting Falion about vampire threats. Aslfur frowned as we entered, both coated in mud. 

'What have you two been up to?' he asked. 

'We had a...mishap with Sissel's training,' Joric explained. 

'Get her some clothes from...from the room upstairs,' Aslfur stammered. I had been meaning to ask for a while now what all the hush was about Joric's sister who was nowhere to be seen, who's room was only ever referred to as 'the upstairs room' or 'the spare room'. 

Joric led me up to Idgrod the Younger's room and searched the wardrobe, pulling out a simple red dress and clean boots. 'These should fit you,' he said. 

'What happened to your sister?' I asked. Joric looked up, his brows lowered, lips drawn into a line.

'She's not dead,' he said. 'At least...not properly.'

'What do you mean?' 

'A man came into town,' Joric murmured. 'Called Alrik. A hunter, so he claimed. I had a vision of him with a distorted, terrible face, eyes that glowed in the marshes at night, and fangs that dripped with blood. Mother told Falion, but he claimed he detected no trace of vampirism in Alrik. He charmed Idgrod, showered her in gifts - where does a simple hunter get such money? - and one night, she woke me up and said she was leaving. He'd turned her into a monster.' 

'Falion couldn't tell?' I said. 'My mother was once in the Dawnguard. I suppose she still is, technically. I remember she sent home a letter telling us she'd been turned into a vampire to get into some horrid place called the Soul Cairn, and came here to get cleansed of it by Falion. He claimed he could tell a vampire just by looking at them.'

'He knew,' Joric hissed, clenching his fists. 'Mother won't listen to me, but I know what he's doing. First Idgrod, who next? Me? Father?'

'You think he's trying to take over?' I whispered.

'Exactly! Idgrod had to be disinherited because of what happened to her. After all, our position in Morthal is tricky enough without people assuming we're all vampires, or somehow in league with them. Falion cosies up to my mother, let's Idgrod be disinherited. He wants her to be left with no heirs, in the hope that she'll name him as her successor on her deathbed.' 

'How do you know this?'

'I don't. I can only guess from the things I've seen...both with my eyes and my mind.' Joric sighed, turning to leave the room. 'Get changed and we'll go for a walk to clear your head.'

**********

Idgrod's dress more or less fitted me, and I was glad for the warm fur cloak that Joric gave me before we stepped out into the pale daylight again. Snow was starting to cascade from the sky, the wind churning it into a soft powder that lifted and danced across the surface of the marsh. 

'Snow again,' he sighed. 

'Boring, isn't it?' I said. 'When I lived in Whiterun, it only ever snowed in winter. It was magical then. You get sick of the sight of it after six years in Winterhold.' 

'They say it rarely ever snows in Falkreath and the Rift,' he said. 'And beyond Skyrim, in Cyrodiil, Valenwood, Elsewyr, it never snows at all.' 

'It would be nice to feel warm again,' I agreed. It had been so long since I felt the sun's warm kisses on my bare skin in the summertime, so long since I'd seen any blooming flowers other than deathbells and snowberry blossom. 

'With Idgrod gone, I'll likely never leave the north of this land,' he huffed. 'Mother is old, and I am of age. When death takes her, I will become Jarl of this accursed place. Then the only time I'll be able to leave here is to attend the Moot. Unless Falion has his way, of course.' 

'We need to stop Falion,' I said. 'We need to find out what he's doing, and put an end to it before more people get hurt.'

'You lived at the College?' he said, and I nodded. 'Falion's ward, Agni, went there not too long ago. You know her?'

'Yeah, we're good friends,' I confirmed. Joric narrowed his eyes.

'Write to her. Ask her if she ever noticed anything...odd.'

'Alright, I will,' I said. 

'In the meantime, meet me outside the inn just before midnight.'

'Why?'

'Every night, he goes out into the marshes,' Joric explained. 'We're going to follow him.'

I frowned. 'What if I don't want to?'

Joric smirked. 'But you _do_ want to, Sissel. I can tell. Stop being awkward.' 

He turned away and walked back towards Highmoon Hall, leaving me on the timber walkway, facing the marsh. I looked into its depths, imagining monsters writhing in the shadows, the ones I had willed to take me away in my earlier moment of madness. Hopefully, they wouldn't take me up on the offer later.


	14. Knifepoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of physical torture.

When I woke up, I soon realised I wasn't in Proudspire Manor. Whilst the bed I was laying on was comfortable and warm, the bars that I peered through alerted me to the danger I found myself in. Rising from the bed, I went to the bars and shook on them uselessly, cursing.

'Ah, you're awake at last,' a cold, croaking voice declared. A woman came into sight, Altmer, a false smile stretching her thin lips. Seeing her robes, I realised where I was, and glared at the woman.

'What do you want?' I hissed. 'Why am I in this cell?'

'Now now, dear,' she purred. 'You don't want to say anything foolish, do you? I would hate to have to resort to...unpleasant measures.'

'Tell me what you want!' I yelled.

'We want to ask you a few simple questions,' she said. 'Then you'll be free to go.' 

'You're lying!' I cried. 'I know who you are! I know what you do! You tell prisoners they're free to go if they talk, and then you'll - you'll - '

'Ah, I see Ondolemar has been telling you tales,' she tutted, producing a set of keys from her pocket. 'Do you know how many people he ordered for execution in his career with us, my dear? Do you? Nine hundred and sixty-three, in total.'

'I know he killed people,' I spat. 'He admitted it. What matters is he realised he was wrong. He's not a monster. Not like you, _Elenwen_.'

'We're all monsters,' she whispered menacingly. 'Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I've got an agent out in Morthal right now, waiting for my orders. If you don't answer my questions, he'll kill your beloved sister.' Seeing my face drain of colour, she cackled, and the lock clicked, the door groaning on its hinges as it swung open and she seized me by the wrist, dragging me towards a bloodstained torture chair in the corner and strapping me to it as I screamed and cried.

'No!' I begged. 'Don't hurt her...don't hurt Sissel. Please. I'll tell you what you want to know.' 

'That's right,' Elenwen murmured softly, picking up a knife that glinted in the light, as though flashing me a cruel smile, and placing it on the edge of a lit brazier, heating the blade in the flames. 'You will.' She crossed over to the stairs. 'Vindar!'

A thud, then some scurrying, and a young elf in white robes, the same style as Elenwen's and with the same gold trim, came hurrying in, looking around nervously. 'Yes, Madame Ambassador?'

'It's your lucky day,' she said. 'We've caught you your first prisoner to assist with. Fetch Commander Lorcarion.'

Vindar glanced at me, gulping, his eyes bulging a little. I shot him a pleading look, but either he didn't notice or chose to ignore it. 'Yes, Madame Ambassador.' 

Shortly after, he returned, supporting another black-robed man who I assumed to be the one Elenwen referred to as Commander Lorcarion. He was hunched slightly, walking stiffly, as though it pained him, yet his face didn't appear to be old - at least, he looked too young to be crippled. His eyes were aurora green, flecked with gold, and piercing.

'This is the girl?' he asked Elenwen, who offered him her arm. He waved a hand, dismissing it.

'Indeed,' she answered. 'We captured her from her bed in the early hours of this morning.'

'I care little for the details, First Emissary,' he drawled as Vindar fetched a chair for him and placed it opposite me. I caught his eye again, and his hazel gaze lingered on mine, lips parting uncertainly. 

'I apologise, Commander,' Elenwen said. 'Let's get to the task at hand.'

The Commander lowered himself onto the chair, wincing with the effort. Up close I could see the lines at the corners of his gleaming eyes, the dusting of pale hair on his chin and upper lip. Something about him was unsettlingly familiar. More unnerving still was the leather whip that hung on the loop of his belt.

'Sofie,' he said slowly, as though tasting my name, exploring the feel of it as it rolled off his tongue. 'I have waited some time to meet you.'

'Don't bother pretending to be nice to me,' I growled. 'Elenwen already gave up with that.'

'Pretending?' he echoed, the corner of his lip twitching with suppressed amusement. 'This is no pretence. I am most pleased to finally make your acquaintance.'

'Why?' I demanded.

'Your mother,' he muttered. 'Your mother is...my daughter.'

My heart sank. I looked again to the whip on his belt, stomach churning with shock, fear, hatred. She had never spoken about her childhood to Sissel and I, not really, but I'd heard her tell Ondolemar about the day she got that scar on her face. This man sat before me in this moment had given that to her, probably with that very same whip that she'd said he used to hang up on the wall behind his chair. No wonder he had seemed familiar - Mother had his eyes.

'You're evil,' I spat. 'She's stronger than you. A million times. She'll come after me, and she'll destroy you all.' 

Lorcarion chuckled. 'With Solitude now packed full of Dominion soldiers? I don't think so, child. No, I think we're quite safe up here.' 

'Safe? So you admit that you fear her?'

Anger flared in his eyes, and he sprung forward and wrapped his fingers around my hair, pulling sharply on it. I refused to cry out, even as he tightened his grip. 

'Eira is a filthy, traitorous _whore_.' 

'First question,' said Elenwen, prompting Lorcarion to withdraw his hand. 'What is the name of your Mother's dragon...ally?'

'Which one?' I drawled.

'All of them.'

'Odahviing and Durnehviir,' I answered. 'Next.'

Elenwen narrowed her eyes and struck my face. My cheek burned from the slap, but I refused to show it. 'I'll decide when the questions are asked, vermin. Where do these dragons go when she is done with them?'

'Durnehviir goes back to the Soul Cairn - '

'What's that?'

'It's...it's in Oblivion,' I answered.

'Which Daedric Lord rules it?'

'I don't know,' I answered truthfully.

'You'll talk,' Lorcarion hissed, pulling the whip out. 'Or you'll suffer.'

'I don't know!' I cried. 'I swear! She never told me these things, she shielded us from it - '

'You're lying,' hissed Elenwen. 'Last chance.'

'I don't know,' I sobbed, writhing and screaming as Elenwen seized her knife from the brazier, now glowing red hot, and ripped open the front of the nightdress I was still wearing. 'Please! I swear! P-please...'

The pain of the knife's tip as it seared my flesh was unbearable. I screamed, struggling desperately against my bonds, the realisation that I was just a few words from death dawning on me. She was carving something above my breasts. Vindar was staring at the scene, pale as a ghost, his eyes clouded and unreadable. When she finally withdrew the knife, I carried on yelling and sobbing, the pain only growing as the tender skin was exposed to the warm, stuffy air in the room, which now stunk of burning flesh.

'You _will_ talk.'


	15. Evil Unveiled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

Joric's pale skin reflected the moonlight of the first clear night I'd experienced in Morthal. His dark eyes gleamed like spheres of ebony, watching me approach cautiously over the ice. As I drew level with him beside the mill, I felt my boots slide and instinctively grabbed onto his arm. He caught me before I fell, hoisting me up with a slight grunt, and frowned down at me as I bared a sheepish grin. 

'It's slippery,' I noted awkwardly. Joric raised his eyebrows.

'You don't say.' I cleared my throat and stepped away from him, dusting imaginary debris off my clothes.

'So...have you seen Falion yet?'

'Not yet,' he said. I shuddered as I felt his cold fingers wrap around mine, and he pulled me into the shadows. 'Stay out of sight, and keep your voice down.' 

And so we waited. Five minutes passed, then another ten. Fifteen more. My teeth started to chatter as the cold sunk deeper and deeper into my body.

'It's been half an hour,' I whined. 

'Shh!' hissed Joric. 'Look. There he is.'

Surely enough, Falion's figure emerged, crossing the bridge. His face was unreadable, his eyes staring straight ahead. In his left hand was a scroll, in the right, a black soul gem. We let him pass into the marshes, seeing him strike up a ball of Candlelight and looked around cautiously before heading away from Morthal.

'Come on,' Joric whispered. We kept to the shadows until we passed into the marsh, following Falion's distant ball of Candlelight, careful not to splash too loudly in the water or slip on ice and mud. I reached for Joric's hand as I felt my fear rearing up again, the tips of my fingers tingling uncomfortably, my stomach churning. 

'It's alright,' said Joric. 'Stay calm. Breathe.' He squeezed my hand gently, and I tried to take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

_I have to be brave_. 

We followed Falion for what felt like an age. The marshland wasn't particularly expansive, but what it lacked in vastness it made up for in difficulty to navigate. After trudging through the mud for what must have been at least forty minutes, the light ahead stopped. Joric came to a standstill, peering out from behind a dead, broken tree.

'There's ruins over there,' he noted. 'Some kind of summoning circle.'

'What's he doing?' I whispered. 

'I can't really see,' he said, just as Falion's voice cut through the air.

'I call upon the Lord of Domination!' his trembling voice cried. 'The God of Schemes! I bring to you a new soul, that I might honour you, and know your favour!'

'By the gods,' Joric murmured, his face somehow turning even whiter. 

'What?' I asked. 'What's wrong?'

'He's...' Joric looked down at me, fear widening his eyes.

'Ah, my humble servant,' came an unearthly voice, harsh and rasping and deep, that set my insides alight with fear. The urge to flee was almost irresistible, every instinct telling me to run, escape, leave before it's too late.

'My Lord Molag Bal,' Falion said, his voice quivering with what sounded like fear mixed with admiration and awe. 'I have brought another soul for your enjoyment.' 

'Molag Bal?' I squeaked. 'The...the Daedric Prince?' Joric held a shaking finger up to his lips, and I fell silent.

'Your efforts to please me do not go unnoticed, mortal,' the voice of Molag Bal said. 'But it will take more than a few innocent souls to convince me to grant you any further assistance in your plight.' 

'My lord,' said Falion. 'What would you have me do?'

'Since the eradication of the Volkihar clan, my most loyal worshippers, my grip on Skyrim is...lessened,' Molag Bal answered. 'Bring to me a virgin woman blessed by Mara. _Alive_. A new clan of vampires shall be born. Bring me a maiden, her heart filled with purest _love_ , and sacrifice her as you summon me. I will do the rest.'

'Your word is my command, master,' Falion murmured. 'So long...so long as Agni is left be.'

Molag Bal chuckled wickedly. 'Your little ward is safely locked away in Winterhold. But once our ritual is complete, you will be the next one turned. You did _want_ eternal youth, did you not? If you will not turn your family, you will disown them.'

'I understand.'

'Be patient, mortal,' Molag Bal hissed softly. 'You will know when you find the right subject. Until then, continue to manipulate the Jarl and keep her favour.'

'I fear her visions will reveal our plan to her,' Falion said. 'If not, those of her son, Joric.'

'The boy is stronger than she is,' answered Molag Bal. 'His Sight is not so easily blocked, and he will prove difficult to defeat. Have faith in the power that I shall grant you. As a mere mortal conjurer, you are strong, but not strong enough. As a Vampire Lord, you will be... _unstoppable_.'

'Yes, my lord,' Falion breathed.

The area fell silent. I clung to Joric's arm, shocked and afraid, as Falion's Candlelight spell began to drift towards us. Joric silently put his arm around me and led me out of the way. We huddled together in the shadows, waiting for him to pass, before trudging after him as quietly as we could manage. When Morthal came back into sight, we lingered at the edge until we saw Falion's figure disappear into his house, and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

'This is worse than I thought,' said Joric as we headed out of the marsh and leaned against the side of the mill. 'Molag Bal? That's...there's nothing we can do.'

'We can't just give up!' I exclaimed. 'If we tell your mother - '

'She won't listen,' Joric sighed. 'Falion has her wrapped around his finger.' 

'What about your father, then? He's expressed worry about Falion before.'

Joric shook his head. 'My father is a clever man, but he has little knowledge of magic and Daedra.'

'We have to do something,' I said, frowning defiantly at him. 'We can't let a Daedric Prince take over an entire town, establish a new clan of vampire lords, and plague Skyrim with his corruption in a time of impending war. This country can't afford to be weak.' 

'I will write to the leader of the Dawnguard,' said Joric. 'But we can't involve my mother in this.'

'I'll write to mine,' I said. 'She's allied with the Dawnguard, and she's dealt with Daedra before. She was the one who killed the leader of the Volkihar clan.' 

'Alright,' Joric huffed, rubbing his eyes. We walked back across the bridge into town. 'For now, we'd best get some sleep. Be cautious, Sissel - Falion's sister is the innkeeper. She likely has nothing to do with this, but...be safe.' 

I smiled at him as we paused outside the inn. 'I will.' 

After a brief silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Goodnight.'

I watched him for a moment as he turned away and walked back towards Highmoon Hall. 'Goodnight.'


	16. Liberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

They left me in the torture chair all night, battered, bruised and burnt, crying softly into the darkness. I'd told them all I knew - about Odahviing and Durnehviir, about Paarthurnax and the Greybeards, the location of the Blades' headquarters in Sky Haven Temple. They'd left me alone eventually, promising to come back in the morning and interrogate me some more. Elenwen and Lorcarion had left Vindar to tend to my wounds, but told him to leave the scars behind. Unable to move my head, I'd asked him what was carved into my chest. An eagle, he'd replied quietly. 

A door creaked somewhere above me, and footsteps thudded on the stairs. I held my breath, trying my best to be silent. Who knows what they had in for me next? Maybe it was just a guard, on patrols. Maybe it was indeed a guard, or someone else, with different intentions. I wouldn't put any level of depravity past the Thalmor. 

It was Vindar, frowning at me as his Candlelight spell hovered between us. I stared back at him.

'What do you want?' I said. 

'I...' he trailed off, folding his arms. 'I'm sorry you're in here.'

'Pah,' I spat. 'Not sorry enough to let me out, though, are you?'

'I'd like to.'

'But the risk to your own life is too great, hm? Wouldn't want you spilling your precious elven blood in my name, after all.'

'It's not that...'

'My mother was a healer for these pricks once,' I told him. 'She did the same job that you're doing.'

'I don't enjoy it.' 

'You'd be one sick bastard if you did.' 

'Elenwen lied about there being an agent waiting for your sister,' Vindar said, looking down at the floor. 

'What?' I hissed. 'You mean I told them all that information for nothing?' 

'I'm sorry.'

'So you've said!' I growled. 'What are you doing in here? What do you want from me?'

He hesitated, then approached me, his boots clicking against the floor. He drew his dagger from his belt, and I stared at him wide-eyed, about to cry out as he slashed downwards with it. The bonds on my left wrist came loose, and I pulled my arm free, flexing my fingers. Vindar cut the other arm free, then my legs, then the strap around my stomach. 

'Go,' he said as I sat up, staring at him in wonder. I tried to stand, but my legs were throbbing, the scabbed-over lashes on them threatening to split open.

'Come with me,' I pleaded. 'You don't want to be one of them. You're not evil.'

'I can't,' Vindar murmured. I grabbed hold of his hand. 

'Please,' I begged. 'They'll know it was you. They'll kill you. Come with me. We'll shelter you.' 

Vindar looked at me with wide, honey-brown eyes, then at the trap door, his brows knotting together. He looked like the statue of Auriel in Mother's quarters in the College; he was a hundred shades of gold, from the colour of wheat fields in the afternoon sunlight to deep amber and caramel.

'No one can shelter themselves or anyone else from the Thalmor,' said Vindar. 'They are taking over Skyrim. They will win.'

'They won't,' I replied. 'Not if my family has anything to say about it.'

'They've got a knife to the High Queen's throat. She is weak. The Empire is weak. The Thalmor have strength in legions.'

'We have dragons,' I argued. 'If you won't come with me, fine. Just know that you'll die in - '

The trap door shuddered. I turned to look at it, and Vindar was frowning in its direction as it rattled. I could faintly hear whispering voices beneath it, then a thud, then silence. 

'FUS RO DAH!' came Mother's thunderous Voice, blasting the trap door open. 

I could have cried with relief if the whole building had not shuddered with wakefulness as footsteps hurried down towards us. I grabbed Vindar's arm and pulled him towards the trap door, ignoring his protests. Mother emerged, rushing towards me and folding me into a tight embrace. Ondolemar followed, his expression solemn as he glanced around the room, then changing to shocked and angry as Mother released me, his gaze focusing on the eagle burned onto my skin.

'By Auriel,' Mother sobbed. 'What have they done to you?'

'We need to get out of here,' said Ondolemar. He glared at Vindar. 'Who are you, boy?'

'I-I'm a healer,' answered Vindar, shifting uncomfortably.

'I can see that,' Ondolemar snapped. 

'His name is Vindar,' I said. 'He's a friend.'

'Stop!' cried a guard, hurtling towards us. I pulled Vindar towards the trap door and practically threw both of us down it. Mother followed, whilst Ondolemar held back. I heard a shriek, followed by a thud and cracking of bones. Mother rushed us on into the dark, across mountains of squishy, stinking things that I didn't want to think about, through splashes I tried to ignore, on towards a thin column of light. 

When we emerged, Odahviing was waiting. He reared up and beat his wings in greeting to Mother, and landed with a thud on the frostbitten grass. 

'Kolos oblaan hin mulaag, Odahviing?' said Mother. I shuddered at the harsh sounds of her Dovahzul, which she had spent years studying to better communicate with her dragon kin. 'How many can you carry?' 

'Only two, thuri,' Odahviing growled in response. 'My wings cannot hold more weight. Uv zu'u nis bo.' 

'Get on,' Mother ordered Vindar and I as I stared in shock and horror. 'Quickly now.'

'I can't ride a dragon!' I protested.

'You'll have to,' said Mother, ushering us towards Odahviing, who compliantly lowered himself to the ground. 'You will be safe so long as you hold on tight.' I gulped, allowing her to give me a leg up onto Odahviing's back. The power of the dragon was unfathomable - every twinge of his muscles threw me off balance, every breath he took shuddered through him like a rumble of thunder.

Mother grabbed Vindar before he mounted. 'I've let you live because I was like you once,' she hissed. 'But if you attempt to bring any harm upon my daughter, I'll tear your guts out and burn them in front of you. Understand?'

'Y-yes ma'am!' he answered. 

'Less of the 'ma'am', kid. You're a deserter now.' She released him and allowed him to climb up behind me. I stretched out my hand to help him hoist himself up, and he shifted awkwardly behind me, unsure where to put his hands. I tutted and pulled his arms around my waist securely. Odahviing spread his wings, ready for flight. From the tunnel, firelight and yelling started up. I looked at Mother, wondering if this might be the last time I see her.

'Go,' ordered Mother. 'To Winterhold.' 

'Zu'u lahney wah aam, Dovahkiin,' Odahviing answered.

I shrieked at the first beat of the dragon's wings. We climbed higher and higher into the air, Vindar's grip around me tightening. I could hear his ragged, frightened breath even through my cries of terror as Odahviing let out a roar, sending birds fleeing from their resting places. It resonated through me, shocking me into silence, as though he'd purposefully done it to shut me up. Trying to relax, I took in the view of the dawn. The moons lingered in the sky, side by side, whilst the sun was starting to stain the eastern horizon red. 

It occurred to me that I was free. I'd been strapped to that chair for hours, retreating into myself as I was tortured and left to cry alone. It was freezing up so high with nothing but a thin nightgown to cover my skin, but I was free from that stuffy torture chamber. Rather than the heavy scent of my own blood, my nose was filled with the fragrance of the fresh spring morning, salted by the sea breeze. I was out, and alive, and suddenly I was no longer afraid, but euphoric. I locked my legs around Odahviing's shoulders and slowly reached up, spreading my fingers, lacing them through the wind, and cried with joy, laughing at the air that threatened to tear me from the dragon, at the clouds that he soared towards as we broke through them and emerged above all creation, drenched. Vindar cursed behind me, and I laughed harder still. Was this how mother felt, when these very wings carried her to Skuldafn?

When we landed at the College, I wished the journey had taken longer. Dizzy with elation, I clung to Vindar, who was visibly less impressed with the situation, and waved to Odahviing as he took to the skies again, speeding back towards Solitude. 

'By the gods,' Vindar muttered faintly. 'How things can change in a mere day.'


	17. A Letter to the Dawnguard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

I was perched on the edge of Morthal's timber walkway, sheltered from the sleet by a covering on its end, when Joric approached silently and sat beside me. For a few moments he said nothing, just frowned, looking out at the stagnant water. I folded my arms and angled myself to face him.

'Is something wrong?' I asked.

'I had a vision last night,' he replied, his expression only growing more grim. In the grey light, his skin was almost translucent. Black stubble dusted his chin, and his hair was a mess, while dark circles ringed his eyes - the look of a sleepless night. 

'What of?'

'You.' Joric shifted, and let out a long breath. 'He took you.' 

'Me?' I shook my head, and lowered my voice, knowing Falion's house to be just behind us. 'I don't fit the description of what he was meant to find. I'm not blessed by Mara. He's probably after a priestess or an acolyte or something.'

'I know,' said Joric. 'But it was still enough to scare me.' 

Sighing, I placed my hand on top of his. He looked down at it, then at me, his eyes not so black this close up - rather, they were a blend of dark greys, browns and pine green, like a misty woodland at twilight rather than a void. Something in me stirred, fluttering, and I withdrew my hand. 

'Are we training today?' I asked. 'We don't have to, if you don't feel up to it.' 

'I wish I did,' he muttered. 'They never normally affect me like this. At least, they haven't since I was a child.' 

'That's alright,' I said. 

'Idgrod was there too,' he murmured. 'She was in the marshes.'

'Did she speak to you?' 

'No. She just stared at me.' 

Silence fell between us. For several minutes we sat quietly, looking out at the water and listening to the pattering of sleet on the shelter above us. I stole a few glances at him - icy droplets clung to the dark curls of his hair, glistening like diamonds. He still seemed mysterious to me, I thought, then realised I had only been here under a week. It felt as though I'd known Joric, and this place, forever. 

'I've been thinking of writing to my birth sister, Britte,' I said quietly, cutting the silence. 

'Oh?' Joric looked up, pouncing on a chance to change the subject. 'Where does she live?'

'I'm not sure,' I answered. 'We grew up in Rorikstead, then were moved to the orphanage in Riften. By all rights, our father's house is hers now, but...maybe she decided to settle somewhere else.'

'The courier will find her, either way,' said Joric. 'Is she older or younger than you?'

'We're twins.'

'Identical?'

'No.' I drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly. 'The thing is...she wasn't very nice to me when we were children. I don't mean just sibling squabbles either, she used to beat me. Lemkil hardly ever beat her, but they both did it to me.' 

'That's terrible,' Joric mumbled, shaking his head. 'Lemkil was your birth father?'

'Yes,' I confirmed. 'He died in a dragon attack.'

'A dragon attacked Rorikstead?' 

'I know, of all places,' I sighed. 'But...between you and I, sometimes I wonder if Mother had something to do with it.' Joric raised his eyebrows. 'She came through often, riding from Whiterun to Solitude, but never really noticed us. One day, Britte shoved me in front of her horse, and almost killed me. She pulled the reigns sharply and was almost thrown off the back, and when she regained control of the horse, she dismounted to make sure I was alright. I had a big ugly bruise on my face from the previous day's beating, and she knew it wasn't the horse - bruises like that don't show straight away. She took me to the inn, bought me some food, and I told her everything. I asked her if it was true that she was the Dragonborn, and she said yes. The next day, after she'd moved on, the dragon attacked. It only killed Lemkil. There was some damage to houses and crops, but he was the only casualty.' 

'Gods,' muttered Joric. 'You really think she murdered your birth father?'

'You know, if it _is_ true, I wouldn't care. Lemkil had it coming. I've had a better life as a result of his death.'

'But why write to Britte if she was as bad as him?' Joric asked.

'I suppose I just want some closure. Besides, it gets lonely at home when Sofie's not around, and she's always off dreaming of freedom and adventure and travelling the wilds alone. She's more independent than me. I need company. When I leave here, and don't have you around anymore, I'll be all alone again. Maybe...maybe Britte will want us to be sisters again. Or at least friends.'

Joric paused, biting his lip slightly. 'You don't have to leave anytime soon. Unless you want to.'

I smiled at him. 'Not until we deal with you-know-who. I'd take you with me if I could, Joric.'

'You would?' His eyes glistened even in this dull light. The wind roared above us, the sleet turning to hail, ricocheting off the boardwalk. A flash illuminated the sky, followed by a crackle of thunder.

'Of course,' I answered, averting my eyes from his. His stare was too intense for me to bear sometimes. It was as if he could see into my head, read my thoughts, my feelings. I felt exposed and vulnerable when I was around him, somehow unsafe, but at the same time joyful and excited at being around someone who was like me. 

A creak sounded behind us. We both turned, seeing Falion emerging from his house. He offered us a nod as he pushed the door shit behind him.

'Good morning,' he greeted. Joric stiffened beside me.

'And you,' he said tensely, narrowing his eyes as Falion walked away towards Highmoon Hall. 

'Seeing as you're staying at the inn,' said Joric. 'Keep an eye out for visitors. We don't get many in Morthal, so anyone is notable. Let me know the second you see anyone new.'

'Alright,' I said. Joric stood and offered me his hand, which I took reluctantly, allowing him to pull me to my feet. My stomach flipped when I caught his eye again, and I looked away hastily. 

'Did you write to your Mother?' he asked as we walked side by the side through the town. 

'I haven't sent it yet,' I answered. 'But I have written the letter.' 

'What did you say?'

'I told her what we saw,' I said. 'And that you were going to write to Isran to ask for help. Have you?'

He pulled out a neatly-folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me, his fingers brushing against mine. I swallowed nervously and unfolded it, coming to a halt to read it. 

_Isran,_

_My name is Joric and I am the current heir of Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone of Morthal. It has come to my attention that Falion, who I'm sure you know of due to his ability to cure vampirism, has been summoning the Daedric Prince Molag Bal and carrying out his will._

_My elder sister, Idgrod the Younger, disappeared a while ago after being seduced by a vampire named Alrik. Falion claimed not to detect vampirism in him, which does not add up when paired with his supposed ability to be able to easily tell the undead from the living. My visions informed me of Alrik's nature but I went ignored due to Falion._

_After following him to the ruins of a stone circle in the early hours of the morning, myself and Sissel Galethien found him communicating with Molag Bal, promising to bring him a maiden 'blessed by Mara' to create a new clan of vampire lords to replace the Volkihar clan that your order eradicated seven years ago. We have not yet seen such a woman come into town, but fear for whoever may become Falion's target. It seems she will become a new Daughter of Coldharbour._

_Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated. Prevention of the emergence of a new vampire menace is undoubtedly a better option than fighting it once the deed has been done._

_I look forward to your response._

_\- Joric, son of Idgrod_

I nodded my approval, folding the letter back up and handing it to him. 'If he has any sense, he'll send someone to investigate.' 

Joric sighed. 'I hope so.'


	18. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Mother had soon returned. When she'd burst through the door into the Hall of the Elements, where much of the College had already gathered for a morning meeting, I'd almost fainted at the sight of Ondolemar, who clung to her weakly, his skin blackened and cracked, bleeding, half-dead. Colette had immediately ran over, as did Vindar, and the three of them did their best to heal the burns over. I'd started to cry, my heart filling with fury. 

When he was finally well enough to emerge, you'd never have known he was just moments from death two days prior. I suppose that kind of resilience comes from experiencing hardship. 

'Are you okay?' I asked him, pulling up a chair beside where he sat in the Arcanaeum in the afternoon. He smiled and put down his quill.

'Better now,' he answered. 'Colette said I should have stayed in bed again, but I don't think I can handle any more of that grating voice jabbering on about nonsense all day.'

'I'm sorry,' I sighed, looking down at my hands.

'Whatever for?' he asked softly.

'I've been a pain in the backside,' I said. 'Running off to Whiterun on my own, then going to Solitude...if I'd never left this place, none of this would have happened.'

'You could never have anticipated it,' he said. 'Besides, my injuries were my own fault. I had plenty of chances to get out of the embassy, and instead I abandoned my self-control and took on a dozen soldiers, at least five wizards and the Ambassador herself. Against those odds, I'm glad I'm not a heap of ash or a corpse for the pile.'

'I was so selfish and stupid,' I muttered. 'I was just thinking about what I wanted.' 

'You're young,' said Ondolemar. 'You're allowed to do...ill-advised things.' 

I took a deep, shaky breath. 'I've never let you get close to me,' I admitted. 'All my life I've...I suppose I blamed you for what happened between Ma and Vilkas. I still held him on a pedestal, thinking he was innocent, believing he cared about me. He made it quite apparent in Whiterun that he wasn't prepared to make allowances for me, and now I realise...you've been here for me the whole time.' 

He was looking at me strangely, his expression unreadable. I noticed faint lines had begun to appear around his eyes, time making its mark upon his face. He no longer looked too young for his demeanour. 

I pulled the tattered old copy of _Mace Etiquette_ out of my satchel and placed it on the corner of the table between us. 'You let me borrow this from you years ago. It's about time I returned it.'

He grinned, his long fingers flicking the cover of the book open, his eyes scanning the writing in the front cover. 'You keep it.' He pushed it back towards me, and I was glad - the book had been a treasure to me as a child, and still was.

'Did Vindar tell you about Lorcarion?' I asked. Ondolemar grimaced and nodded.

'He did. Your mother is seething up in our quarters, plotting revenge. Best to leave her to it when she gets in a mood like that.'

'Have you seen him?' I asked.

Ondolemar raised an eyebrow. 'Vindar? He's out in courtyard, feeling sorry for himself and refusing to make any friends.' 

I sighed. 'No change there, then. Wasn't it the same when you deserted?'

'Initially,' he admitted. 'Then I watched your mother take down a dragon, and realised there are worse problems to have. He's only doing it for your attention, anyway.'

'Why would he do that?'

'Because he's obviously quite taken with you.'

'He's...really?' I frowned. 'We've spent about two hours of time together.' 

'Ha! It doesn't take _that_ long.' 

'Mother always said love takes time.'

'It takes a mere glance to fall in love, Sofie. It takes a lot more to develop understanding, trust and respect. True love needs all those things and more.' 

'I don't think he fancies me,' I said, shaking my head. Ondolemar just chuckled as I got to my feet, bidding him goodbye, and wandered out of the Arcanaeum, looking down at the floor, and almost colliding with Agni in the narrow staircase. 

'Oh!' she gasped. 'Sorry!'

'That's alright,' I said, smiling.

'Your friend Vindar is sulking outside, by the way.'

'So I've been told. Is your leg better? Mother told me about what happened in the Midden.'

She smiled. 'It's all mended now, thankfully - no more listening to Colette's nagging.'

I laughed. 'Good.'

'See you later.'

I continued on down the stairs and pushed open the doors to the courtyard. Surely enough, Vindar was sat at one of the benches, his head propped up by a hand. His eyes flitted to me as I approached, and tried my best to smile, wondering what he was thinking while he looked at me. Ondolemar was probably just teasing me, but Vindar was strangely unreadable. 

'I've been told you're struggling to settle in,' I said, taking a seat opposite him.

'This place is cold,' he replied. 'And lifeless.'

'I used to think that,' I told him. 'I hated it here. But it's withdrawn from the world and safe. Having your power taken away and being subjected to torture tends to make you value that a bit more.' 

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and I turned to see a courier nervously waiting behind the gate. I approached him, trying to reassure him with a friendly smile.

'Letter for Archmage Eira Galethien,' the courier said, glancing about. 

'I'll take it,' I said. 'I'm her daughter.' 

'Very well.' He thrust the letter at me and practically ran when I took it. I'd forgotten how many people in Skyrim still feared the College. You'd think a courier would learn to get used to it after some time. 

I looked towards Vindar as I went to head inside. 'You know, you should take advantage of your time here. There's no better place in Skyrim when it comes to magic.'

'I think I'll pass,' Vindar grumbled. 'I'll be leaving here at the first opportunity I get.' 

I shrugged. 'Suit yourself.' He narrowed his eyes at me and watched as I walked away - evidently he'd expected me to indulge him in asking what his plan was, but if he thought I was that easy to draw in, he'd have to think again. 

I hurried off to Mother's quarters, where she was hunched over her desk, scribbling beside a pile of screwed up sheets of paper and broken quills. She was evidently in one of her rages, so I hung back and waited for her to stop writing before I approached her.

'Ma?' 

She looked up. Her eyes were wild, hair falling in her face, which she hastily pushed away. 'Yes?'

'Letter for you.'

'Oh,' she tried to soften her expression, holding out her hand for the letter. 'Who from?'

'Sissel, by the look of the writing.' 

Mother opened up the letter, her hands quivering slightly. I watched her face change as she read it. Her irritation soon melted away, and her eyes widened, lips parting, her face draining of colour.

'Shit,' she cursed. Hesitating, I went over to her and peered over her shoulder at the letter. She handed it to me, and I frowned down at Sissel's writing on the page as Mother stood and began to stuff her satchel with supplies. 

_Dear Ma,_

_Joric and I have made a grave discovery in Morthal. We followed Falion into the marshes the other night because of Joric's suspicion that he was involved in the disinheritance of Idgrod the Younger, and plans to seize control of Morthal himself. At the ruins of a summoning circle we watched him invoke Molag Bal, who ordered him to find a virgin woman 'blessed by Mara' to become a Daughter of Coldharbour and create a new clan of vampire lords. We cannot tell the Jarl, because Falion has her wrapped around his finger, but Joric has written to the Dawnguard to ask for assistance._

_I hope this letter finds you safely._

_All my love,_

_Sissel_

'Oh gods,' I breathed. 'Are you going after her?' 

'Of course,' Mother replied. 'But not yet. Joric is said throughout the holds to be insane. He isn't, but if I know Isran he will simply laugh at Joric's words. I'm going to Fort Dawnguard and I'll drag them to Morthal myself. I just hope Serana sees sense and heads there, for the sake of a friend's child.' 

'Why don't I head for Morthal in the meantime?' I offered. 

'Absolutely not,' said Mother. 'You're a Thalmor target, Sofie.'

'But I could help!'

'What could you do?' she sighed. 'I know you just want to help, but this is far beyond your skill. This is a powerful Daedric Prince. I have enough on my plate without worrying about you.' She took me into her arms and placed a kiss on my head. 'I promise that this won't be forever.'

'Alright,' I huffed. She offered me a sad smile.

'Take care, dear,' she said, turning away. 'I'll write.'

'Take care,' I replied as she headed down the stairs. Alone in the empty quarters, I let out a long breath.


	19. Sudden Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

I'd tried to avoid Joric for the week that followed after sending our letters; things had become increasingly uncomfortable between us for reasons I didn't understand, and I intended to keep it to a minimum. Still, training had to be done, and after putting it off for so long with a long-term 'headache' the Jarl soon insisted on Joric resuming my lessons. 

The late afternoon was clear, so we sat outside, in the old burned down house that no one seemed inclined to repair, not even Hroggar. Too painful, I imagined. Joric was laying a deck of thirteen cards on the floor, each one with a different design on it, corresponding to the standing stones and their constellations.

'What are those for?' I asked, cutting through the tense silence between us.

'You're able to invite visions in at appropriate times now,' he said, not looking up. 'It's time to sharpen up the accuracy of what you see. From what you've described, your visions are fragmented, which makes messages hard to decipher. By tuning your mind, you can see more useful information.' He gestured to the deck. 'Look at each card carefully. Make sure you can visualise them all, one by one, and tell me when you're ready.'

I did as he said, studying each image until I could recall all of them. 'Ready.'

He gathered the deck up again and shuffled them, catching my eye over the top of the cards and frowning as he glanced back down. His cheeks flushed with uncharacteristic colour, and my stomach fluttered, but I put it down to the cold of the wind. 

'Alright,' he muttered, ceasing the shuffling and placing the deck face down on the floor. 'I've chosen a card. I'm going to send its image into your mind, and you need to tell me which one it is. This should be easy.' 

I gulped as Joric reached forward and took both my hands in his, interlacing our fingers. The way he looked at me...was it just that psychic bond snapping into place before he bombarded me with his own thoughts, or was there more to it than that? It was my turn to flush red under the intensity of his stare. 

The image formed clearly, flashing to life in my mind - the card of the Serpent Stone, its stars glimmering bright. 

'Serpent,' I said, and Joric nodded.

'Good. This time, I want you to filter the information. Ignore the card itself, the name, and the constellation. I'll send you the image of the card again, this time with some...additions. You need to focus on the snake to see them, and only the snake.'

'Alright...'

There was the card again, its edges crisp and sharp against the blank void in my head. I stripped the edges away with my mind's eye, dissolved the card to ash, dimmed out the stars one by one. Only the snake was left, still and lifeless. I took in a deep breath, searching for the meaning in the vision. The snake's tongue flickered in response. I clung to the invisible thread that stretched between Joric and I, and the snake turned, no longer a painting but a living creature, hissing softly. Coiling, it reared up its head, baring fangs that dripped with venom. Fear began to constrict my breathing. I found myself trying to sever the link between us, to pull out of our shared space, but Joric's hands and mind gripped mine harder. 

'It's not real,' came Joric's distant, muffled voice. 'It can't hurt you. It's just an image.'

'Let me go!' I shrieked, begging him, feeling hot tears spilling down my cheeks. I felt his sigh shudder through me as the image faded and he pulled his hands away from mine, pulling me back to reality, where I was heaving in great lungfuls of air and quivering with sobs.

'Sissel,' he said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, unable to find words to match my despair - another failure, thanks to stupid panicking. He pulled me towards him, and I laid my head on his shoulder and sobbed while he untangled knots in my hair. 

'Why am I so _useless_?' I finally said. 

'Don't be like that,' Joric said. 'You're the most powerful of our kind that I've heard of. That is why you find controlling your powers hard - because they are so potent.' 

I raised my head and looked up at him. He was staring at me, his eyes shining in the fading light of dusk. His fingers were still laced in my hair. My instinct roared at me, and without thinking, I reached forward and placed my lips against his. He made a small, surprised groan, then relaxed, wrapping his free hand around my waist, pulling me closer. I savoured the warmth of the clumsy embrace, my heart soaring with joy, my entire being fluttering not with fear, but drowsy happiness. 

'Joric...' I whispered as we pulled apart, gazing up at him. He was frowning, but his shining stare betrayed his joy. 'I - '

'Ahem,' someone coughed from my right, and we sprung apart, staring at the intruder - a tall, dark-haired woman in hooded travelling robes, watching us with an amused smirk. She gestured behind her. 'The inn is that way if you're planning on getting a room for that. Otherwise, we have work to do.'

'We...we do?' said Joric, eyeing her suspiciously. 'Did the Dawnguard send you?'

'Ha! Not exactly,' the woman drawled. 'Isran read your letter and dismissed you as a 'halfwit nutcase', but I know better than to ignore a claim that the Lord of Domination has plans for Skyrim.'

'Who are you?'

'A former vampire,' she said, folding her arms. 'Turned vampire hunter. A Daughter of Coldharbour. Aside from my mother, the last living member of the Volkihar clan, and...well, she doesn't really count as 'living'. But you can call me Serana.' 

'Serana?' I echoed. 'You know my mother!'

She smiled. 'Yes, I do. She came blundering into a crypt and woke me from a several-thousand-year coma about eight years ago.' 

'You don't look much like a vampire hunter,' Joric noted, an eyebrow raised. 

'I'm more of a...missionary,' Serana replied. 'I try to convince vampires to let me bring them here to get cured before the Dawnguard eliminate them. Most refuse.'

'I don't recognise you. I've never seen you here before.'

'That would be because whenever I come here it's at three in the morning,' she huffed. 'Now, if you're done asking questions, shall we get down to business?' 

'What are we going to do?' I said. 

'This stone circle mentioned in the letter. Is it far from here?'

'Only about a mile,' answered Joric. 'But the marsh is difficult to navigate.' 

'Then let's go there,' said Serana. 'And see what evidence we can find of what Falion's planning.'

'Was it him who cured you?' asked Joric as Serana went to turn and walk away. 

'It was. Gave me some speech about Daedra and Dwemer.'

'Yeah, he says that to everyone,' I pointed out.

'If he sees you around here he's bound to get suspicious,' said Joric. 'Especially if you're with us. We'll meet you at the edge of the marsh.' 

'Good thinking,' said Serana. 'Be quick.'

With that, she vanished out of sight. Left alone again, I took a shaky breath and looked up at Joric again, whose face was solemn. 

'Joric, I...'

'Please,' he interrupted. 'Don't. I can't do this.'

My heart sunk. I felt myself start to retreat to my inner cage, recoiling from the world, hiding myself away. 'Why?' I whispered.

'You're leaving soon,' he said. 'You'll be going back to Winterhold.'

'I could stay,' I suggested. 'When I'm of age - '

'You don't want to be tied to this place,' Joric grumbled. 'Dreary, gloomy, dull old Morthal...you're meant for greater things.'

'I wouldn't mind,' I replied. 'Not if I'm with you.' 

'Stop,' Joric insisted. 'We're not doing this. We can't.' 

'Fine,' I muttered as he strode out of the burned down house, his boots thudding on the walkway. Reluctantly, I followed, going into a daze, mindlessly trudging after him, up the hill, past Helgi's grave, towards the eastern edge of the marsh.

If this was love, I did not want it.


	20. Legions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

I was laying on my bed in the room that I once shared with Sissel, and now shared with Agni, scanning a book without taking any of it in, when someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Looking up, I saw Vindar lurking uncertainly there, a rolled up piece of paper in one hand, the other tucked behind his back. Still so formal, his posture stiff, manner cold, as though he were still one of _them_. Maybe he didn't know how to act any different. Maybe he'd forgotten who he was before he went into their ranks. Or maybe he chose to be like this. 

'A letter came for you,' he said. I held out my hand and he placed the rolled up letter in it, looking down at the floor.

'Thank you,' I replied, narrowing my eyes at him. 'I'm surprised you're still here.'

'And why shouldn't I be?' He demanded, his stern expression faltering as I smirked.

'I thought you planned to leave and make your own way,' I pointed out. 'Or have you had a reality check?' 

'Hmph,' he answered. 'I have nowhere else to go. I do not know this land. Therefore I am stuck here, amongst these... _mages_ , as they would call themselves...until I have the means to go elsewhere.'

'Drop the formality, Vindar,' I drawled. 'You're not in the Thalmor anymore.'

'I could have been, if you hadn't made me come with you.'

'They would have killed you,' I growled. 'You must have only just been posted. How old are you?'

'Forty-one,' he answered.

'Little more than a child to your people,' I noted. 'You have your whole life ahead of you. Do you remember who you were before they sunk their claws into you and dug out your brains, replacing them with mindless obedience? Probably not. But you do know how barbaric and backward the Thalmor are. If you didn't, you wouldn't have set me free.'

'They're the winning side,' he said. 'And I am no fool. I would sooner be on the side of victory than the side of defeat.'

'Then you're a coward!' I yelled. He flinched, not expecting the outburst. 'You want to be convinced, hm? Go speak to Ondolemar. He'll tell you a thousand stories of lives taken, dignity destroyed, children massacred, all for the 'glory' of the Dominion! Or my mother will tell you about a wood elf named Thaduin who once had her heart, tortured, castrated and left to bleed to death! Failing that, take your sorry backside to Falkreath and ask the priest about the horrors of the Great War! I could go on, Vindar, but it would be a waste of time. If you have any sympathy left for those bastards, you'll do well to keep away from me, or take a mace to your skull!' 

I waited for him to speak, but he studied my face, brows lowered, before turning away and shutting the doors behind him. Reeling with anger, I kicked the cupboard and cursed, letting out a frustrated sigh. The nerve...

Remembering the letter, I sat back down on my bed and unravelled it, smiling down at the page where the smudged ink of Lucia's writing bloomed.

_Dear Sofie,_

_I'm so sorry about what the Thalmor did to you. If I hadn't dragged you into my mess, you'd never have been in Solitude when they came. They're still occupying it now - Kayd and I have fled through the old catacombs, with the baby, and we're going back to Whiterun, where I've heard the Jarl is preparing to resist occupation by the Dominion. Kayd has money enough to keep us at the inn until we can afford somewhere proper to live. In the meantime, I'll make money as a bard, and he'll offer his services to the Jarl._

_Little Eira is doing well. She's got a touch of Redguard complexion but my mousy hair, and eyes as blue as the Abecean! Kayd told me he'd never want things any other way now - in fact, he's taken to being a father quite well, as I'm sure you'll be glad to hear._

_I will write to you again soon, from Whiterun, and await your reply eagerly._

_Your friend,_

_Lucia_

Thank the Gods she was alright, and Kayd was finally stepping up. Hopefully the Thalmor wouldn't take Beirand and Sayma in for questioning. Those bastards. I'd have slaughtered every one of them if I could. 

Sighing, I placed the letter in my drawer, deciding to write a reply later. My mind was fogged with worry for Sissel, stuck in Morthal with a servant of Molag Bal on the loose. 

Still, I was powerless to do anything about it, and Mother would get it sorted out. She sorted the whole world out. I used to want to be a hero like her, but it looked awfully tiring. Perhaps I'd just be a hero on a small scale, rescuing people from bandits and stuff like that. Killing dragons, defeating Daedra and fighting wars all sounded a bit too dramatic. 

That had been the whole point of joining the Companions. Some small, naïve part of me had still hoped to hear from Vilkas, asking me to come back, but no word had come. Soon, I would be of age, and had to put such childish idealism behind me. It still broke my heart - he had been a father to me once. Yet, through all that time we spent together when I was a girl, Sissel had hardly ever been there. It was no wonder she hadn't been much bothered when the truth came out. For once, she'd been the stronger of the two of us. 

I'd called her terrible things for her insecurity. Milk-drinker, coward, baby, weakling, to name a few. I suppose I'd always been taught by Vilkas and the others not to feel fear, and so I didn't, until I was strapped to that chair at the mercy of the Thalmor, and understood the danger to my life, and had finally felt the way poor Sissel felt all the time. How was she coping out in Morthal all alone? Was she in constant fear, or had she become stronger? For her sake, I hoped for the latter. 

There was no use wasting my day worrying about people far beyond my reach, so I got up and decided to see Kraldar. I should really have called him Jarl by now, but I'd been his trainee when he was just a lonely nobleman, the last of his line. He was determined to restore Winterhold to the glory he often spoke of, before the Great Collapse. He'd married a woman called Friga, at least fifteen years younger than he was, but she adored him, and shared his ambitions for the town. 

The Sea of Ghosts was a grey sheet on the horizon, churning strangely. I paused on the bridge, watching with curiosity at shapes that bobbed up and down on the water. Sails. Golden sails, on ships, I soon realised. An armada of them was heading past Winterhold in the distance, for what could only be the estuary of the White River, leading inland to Windhelm. I broke into a run, trying not to slip on the ice, and darted towards the Longhouse.

'Kraldar!' I yelled as I tore into his residence. Friga blinked, startled.

'Whatever is the matter, dear?' she asked sweetly.

'There's a whole fleet of Aldmeri ships out there!' I said. Kraldar came running in, an unspoken question on his face. 'They're headed for Windhelm!'

'By the Nine,' Kraldar muttered. 'First Solitude, now Windhelm? They will spread like a disease across this land.'

'What can we do?' Friga sighed. 'If the Empire will not put an end to this, we are powerless.'

'I will write to Idgrod and Balgruuf,' said Kraldar. 'I know Balgruuf intends to try and hold out under siege, but Morthal won't be able to do that.' 

'General Tullius has to do something!' I cried. 'They're invading Skyrim!'

Kraldar sighed. 'I'm afraid that this isn't the last legion of Thalmor soldiers we'll see. Tullius is reluctant to break the peace, even though there never really was any. It may be too late for Solitude, and probably Windhelm now, but the other holds still have hope.'

'Winterhold is a ruin,' said Friga. 'There is nobody here to defend us.'

'The College,' I said. 'They will protect Winterhold in whatever way they can. And when Mother returns, she will lay waste to them all!'

Kraldar smiled. 'Then let's pray she returns soon.'


	21. Jarl of Morthal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

Serana frowned down at the ground in the centre of the stone circle, kicking rocks and mud around. 'I can't find anything,' she called out. 

'What is it we're actually meant to be looking for?' I asked.

'Anything that isn't meant to be here. Empty soul gems would be evidence for your claim that Falion's been offering souls to Molag Bal. Other than that, anything which is out of place.' 

'This is hopeless,' Joric sighed. 'There's so much mud and clay, it's impossible to see - eurgh!'

'What? What is it?' I rushed over to where he stood, staring down in disgust and horror at the floor. A small white orb gleamed in the dark, a jewel set in a bloodied skull, flies dancing across its surface. My stomach went weak, and I retched as Serana came over, her nose wrinkled.

'Nasty,' she commented. 'But not likely Falion's doing.'

Joric nodded his agreement. 'It looks like the poor fool's been eaten - there are teeth marks and scratches on the bones.' 

'I want to go back,' I muttered, averting my eyes from the corpse. 

'Well, I don't think we'll find anything worthwhile here,' said Serana. 'We may as well go back.' 

That was pointless, I determined as we trudged back through the marsh again. My gaze settled on Joric, who led us back, walking a few feet ahead of Serana and I. Part of me wanted to smile when I looked at him, and another part wanted to cry. I'd been foolish to try and kiss him. Of course he wasn't interested in me. Gods, I barely even knew what I was doing - I hadn't seen any boys my age for years before coming to Morthal. None had joined the College, and I had never really left Winterhold. The only friends I'd had were Sofie, Agni and a girl in town called Eirid, whose parents soon stopped her from seeing us due to their fear of magic.

When Morthal finally came back into sight, I breathed a sigh of relief. Serana came to a sudden halt, her eyes gleaming from within the shadows cast by the twisted trees. In many ways, she still looked like a vampire. 

'I can either risk staying at the inn or go to Windstad Manor,' she said. 'You choose.'

'Stay at the inn,' Joric answered. 

'But what if Falion gets suspicious?' I said.

'He won't,' Joric insisted, not looking at me. 'As long as you two stay apart and don't speak in view of anyone else. We need access to help should anything go wrong.'

'Alright,' Serana said. 'I'll wait here and let you two go ahead for a few minutes.' 

'Very well,' said Joric, stepping out onto the ice and into the dusk light that had settled over Morthal. Reluctantly I followed, feeling bitterly cold and miserable now, not caring if I slipped on the ice. Hopefully I would, and smack my head, and not have to feel anymore. 

As we crossed the bridge, silence stretching between us, I heard a commotion, and looked past Joric's shoulder. A crowd had gathered outside Highmoon Hall, people crying and shouting and waving their hands frantically. Outside, Lami was trying to calm people down, stood on the stairs before the door.

'There he is!' someone cried, and the crowd's eyes settled on us as we approached.

'What in Oblivion is going on?' demanded Joric. The people exchanged wary glances, and Lami stepped forward, her brows knotting with what looked to me like pity. 

'My Lord,' she said. 'My sincerest condolences. Your mother and father...they're dead.' 

My heart sunk as Joric's lips parted in horror, and then he looked between the crowd and the door, taking a step back, shaking his head. I called out his name as he took off running, and was about to run after him when Lami caught me by the shoulder and pulled me back.

'Leave him be, dear,' she said. 

'Our old Jarl is dead, now the new one takes off running?' grumbled Benor. I whirled on him.

'He's just lost his parents, idiot!' I hissed, surprised by my own fierceness. 'Give him a break!' Benor muttered something under his breath, but shut up after that. I stormed off to the inn and collapsed onto my bed, tears running down my cheeks. I wanted my mother. Ondolemar. Sofie. Agni. Lucia. Any friendly face would do.

I looked up as the door clicked behind me and Serana snuck into the room, looking both ways, her face fixed into a frown.

'What's going on out there?' she asked, her frown fading as I looked at her with bloodshot eyes. 'What's wrong? Why are you crying?' 

I tried to speak, but only a croak came out of my throat. Despairing, I shook my head, and she came and sat beside me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

'Sit up,' she said gently. 'Tell me what's the matter.'

'Joric,' I whispered. 'His parents are dead. He's meant to be Jarl now, but he went off somewhere. This was what Falion wanted. He waited until Joric was out of the way and took his chance. He wants to take over Morthal, probably turn everyone into vampires or something. Then what? Where's next? The Pale? Haafingar? Whiterun?' 

'Shh,' she hushed, rubbing my back. 'There's nothing we can do until Joric comes back.'

'He hates me too, now,' I murmured. 'Everyone hates me.'

'Don't be so silly. Your family loves you. Your friends love you.' She sighed. 'Why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll go and find Joric. I still prefer the night anyway. Get some rest and we'll sort this mess out tomorrow.'

I nodded, laying down on the bed, letting her pull the thin blankets over me. She smiled down at me - a strange, crooked smile, almost unnerving in a way. The mark of centuries of vampirism was still very much there, from that not-quite-sinister grin to the way she slinked out of the room like a nocturnal predator, dressed in red and black. 

Turning over, I tried to ease my shaking, and closed my eyes, praying for sleep.


	22. News from the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Ondolemar hadn't taken the news of the fleet well. In fact, when I'd told him what I'd seen, he picked up a vial of poison and threw it across the room, where it hit the carefully cultivated gleamblossom that Mother had spent months trying to get to grow. It had hissed and wilted immediately, and Ondolemar cursed, muttering something about how its glowing kept him awake anyway, and I had left him to mull over the news alone. 

I headed down to the Arcanaeum, where to my annoyance Vindar was sat in my usual place, hunched over a book. Feeling stubborn, I walked right over and plonked down opposite him without a word, taking a random book off the shelf next to the table and staring intently down at the words. 

'Is there a reason you're bothering me?' he asked after a moment's quiet, shutting his book.

I tossed my head back and looked down my nose at him, eyebrows raised. 'No,' I answered in my haughtiest tone, which as it turns out fell rather short of the arrogance the Altmer seemed to be able to summon at will. 'You're just sat in my spot, that's all.'

Vindar snorted. 'I do apologise. I didn't realise there were specific seating arrangements.'

'Hmph,' I grunted, looking back down at my book.

'Stop pretending to read.'

My stare snapped up to him again. ' _I'm not_ ,' I snarled.

'Yes, you are,' he sighed. 'Look, I'm sorry if I upset you earlier. You must try to understand - I was just a child when I signed up for the Thalmor. My parents were both in it. It's all I've ever known.' 

'That's besides the point,' I argued. 'If you had enough conscience to help me escape, you've got enough to turn your back on them.'

'Have I not done that already?'

'Well...yes, sort of. But you regret it, and you shouldn't.'

'What I regret is not leaving what you correctly say is a cruel regime,' he said. 'It is leaving the safety and security of the role I had. The Thalmor will win this war, and now I will perish with the rest of you.'

'They won't win!' I protested. 'That's what they've brainwashed you into thinking.'

'Not at all. They have decades more training than Imperial soldiers, better resources, and the hatred forced into all of us from our earliest days. They will cripple the Empire.'

'We have dragons,' I said. 'The race that once held Tamriel in its claws. Not only will we drive the Dominion out of Skyrim, Vindar - we will drive it out of Hammerfell, Elsewyr, Valenwood, and then we'll topple it on its home ground!' 

To my surprise, Vindar smiled. 'Your inspiring speeches make me want to believe that it's possible.'

'Is that sarcastic?'

'Of course not. You have quite a way with words.'

For a moment, I said nothing, just stared at him. He looked more bronze than gold in the flickering candlelight, which cast shadows onto his angular face.

'You're not so bad for a Thalmor dissident.'

'And you're not so bad for a Nord.' 

**********

As it turned out, news of the occupation of Windhelm came the next day by means of Odahviing, who landed on top of the college with a crash, dust showering down from the ceiling. I ran up with Vindar to greet him, sending Agni to fetch Ondolemar. The sight of a dragon would always send chills through me, and Odahviing seemed to delight in the way we held back from him, probably smelling our fear. 

Ondolemar came running up the stairs moments later, heavy bags under his eyes. 'What news do you bring?'

'Windhelm...fin fahliil nis viik nii. The elves could not take it.' 

'Windhelm held against the Thalmor?' said Ondolemar, breathing a sigh of relief. 'Thank Auriel for that. Did Eira send you?'

'Geh. Yes. Dovahkiin summoned me, and bid me fly to Windhelm. Zu'u al fin fahliil. I laid waste to the invaders.' 

'You have done a great service to all of Tamriel,' Ondolemar said, offering Odahviing a small bow. 'Where is Eira now?'

'Nust wundun brom. She travels north. To Morthal, with the vampire hunters.' 

'Alright then,' Ondolemar muttered. 'You may take your leave.'

Without another word, Odahviing beat his wings, sending a torrent of air forward, and took flight, sending a roar into the sky and heading south. Maybe to the Throat of the World, where he reportedly spent much time bickering with Paarthurnax, who tried to teach him the peaceful ways of the Greybeards. At least, that's what Mother always said, grinning to herself. I couldn't imagine dragons bickering like old women myself. 

'If Windhelm resisted,' I said. 'Then there is hope.'

Ondolemar laughed. 'If Windhelm resisted, I killed that accursed gleamblossom plant for nothing!' 

'We could liberate Solitude,' I said.

'It would be difficult. Unlike Windhelm, the invaders of Solitude are already inside. We can't just get a dragon to charge in and set light to them all when there are innocent people in there.'

'Perhaps not,' Vindar said. 'But the dragon could easily take out the boats with all the reinforcements in. And the embassy, where they're storing more of them.'

Ondolemar whirled on Vindar, his eyes narrowed. 'What do you know of their plans, boy?'

'N-not much,' Vindar protested. 'Only what I was directly involved in. They kept it all secret.'

'Are there armies crossing land?' 

'No,' said Vindar. 'I don't think so, anyway. They would have to cross well-defended territory. The only possible way in would be Hammerfell, and even then the north is too well-defended.' 

'So northern Skyrim is the most vulnerable,' I said. 'Anywhere with sea access.'

'Now that they've failed to take a major city like Windhelm, they'll probably try to take over small ones,' Ondolemar murmured. 'We are vulnerable in Winterhold - it's small, open, hard to defend, and the College has plenty of resources they could take advantage of. Perhaps we should go to Whiterun.' 

'And leave the College undefended?' 

'No one else here is being directly targeted,' he said. 'Only the three of us. The rest will be safe so long as they comply. For now.'

I sighed. 'When shall we go?' 

'Tomorrow morning. For now, go and get some rest. We've a long journey ahead of us.'


	23. Along the Icy Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

When I awoke the following morning, I went through my exercises as usual. Cross-legged on my bed, I breathed in deeply, and opened up my mind, waiting for images to come through. Nothing significant today - only a few fragments that made little sense. Maybe it was my focus that was the problem, or maybe there simply wasn't much for me to see. I found that hard to believe. 

At least my head was clearer for it as I left the inn and went to Highmoon Hall. The bodies had been cleared out the previous night, and Serana had informed me that she'd tracked Joric down eventually and brought him back. He was sat on the throne, a circlet on his head, staring straight into space. It must have been terrible, to be at least partly free one day and to become a Jarl the next, forsaking all the little freedom you had. I cleared my throat and approached him.

'How are you feeling today?' I asked him uncertainly. His gaze fixed on me, as though he only just noticed my presence.

'Shit,' he answered bluntly. 

'What are you going to do now?'

'Sit here all day and displease people,' he said. 'That's what Jarls do, isn't it?' 

'We'll keep searching for evidence and bring it to you.'

'No need,' he said. 'I told Falion to leave town today.'

My heart thudded anxiously. 'What?'

'I told him to get out of town. I told the people of Morthal exactly what we saw and heard. Now they all know he worships Daedra, and he's been given two hours to pack and get out.'

'But...that doesn't solve the problem!' I protested. 'So what if you kick him out of Morthal? He'll just find somewhere else to do his evil deeds!'

'Other places are not my concern,' said Joric. I glared at him, folding my arms.

'How could you let this happen? We were making progress! The Dawnguard are probably on their way!' 

'I won't have my first order as Jarl undermined by the common rabble!' he snapped. I flinched, taking a step back. Did he really just refer to me as 'common rabble'? 

'Is that what I am to you?' I hissed. 'If that's the case, we're done here. I'll go home.' 

'If you wish,' he said. My frustration was unbearable - this wasn't him at all. He may have been through a lot in the past day, but this was completely out of character. Despairing, I turned away and headed out of Highmoon Hall, fighting back my tears. No, I would not cry today. I would leave this town with dignity, with my head held high. I paused before the door and turned back to face him.

'When they arrive,' I said. 'My mother will probably be with them. If you have a shred of decency left in you, please tell her I've gone back to Winterhold. Alone.'

He said nothing, just stared off into space again, his leg shaking up and down. I turned away for the last time and embraced the cold morning air, heading back to the inn to retrieve my things. 

**********

The roads up this way were dark. It was approaching midnight now, and I was still trudging on through the night. Mother had made travelling the roads seem easy, but the reality was that the ice threatened to dump me on the floor with every step, and my feet were cold and aching. How many miles had I walked? I hadn't left until early evening, after spending hours trying to convince Serana I would be fine, and then having to lie to her and say I would stay in Morthal when she refused to let me leave alone. I'd snuck out of the inn and headed off anyway. 

So far I hadn't encountered any predators, or any other people on the road. I knew enough magic to hold off some wolves or a troll, but how would I manage if I ran into a Thalmor patrol? They'd kill me for sure if they recognised me. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried to establish a rhythm in my steps. Easier said than done when the ground is slippery. I listened to the night - the wind was the only sound as it pushed snow off the branches of the trees, stinging my cheeks. 

Then I heard murmuring. Low, strange, almost...melodic. Not murmuring at all, but a song. A dark song, deep and unnerving. I paused and listened for a moment. It came closer. Panicking, I set off again, faster this time, praying the ice would show me mercy. The sound grew louder anyway, and I broke into a run, forsaking the road for the powdery snow of the woods, darting between the trees. It was no use. Whoever was making that noise was chasing me.

Suddenly something collided with me from behind, pushing me down into the snow. Hands roughly gripped my shoulder and drove my face down as I cried out, stifling my scream. I tried desperately to breathe, kicking and writhing, until something struck the back of my head, and I was plunged into darkness.


	24. Facing the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

We arrived in Whiterun after a long, mostly silent journey. The sun was settling over the plains, the scent of honey sweetening the breeze as it wafted over from the meadery. Dragonsreach was a comforting sight, towering up towards the first stars to brave the dusk, but I still couldn't push away the memories of my last time here. 

Vindar looked around nervously as the city gates swung open. Skyrim must have seemed alien to him - he'd been shut away in the embassy, then in the College, and now at last he had seen the country as it really was, its wild landscape and rustic cities, far removed from the crystal towers of Alinor. 

I wasn't sure if I liked the idea of the Summerset Isles or not. Mother and Ondolemar both spoke of their homeland fondly, although they had come from the humbler and more hospitable isle of Auridon, but I was a true Nord, who loved the crooked timber houses and sturdy, square walls of Skyrim's cities. I wouldn't have it any other way. Mother appreciated its charm, and had come to love Skyrim as much as she loved Auridon. Maybe more, seeing as it wasn't run by a fascist regime. Well, unless you asked the Stormcloaks, then they'd argue it was. Ondolemar had warmed to it over the years, but I knew he longed for home, much as he tried to hide it. I suppose I would too.

'We ought to report our presence to the Jarl,' said Ondolemar. His shoulders were tense, and there was a hint of a grim expression on his face as we marched on through the city. Maybe it was the people who turned and stared as we passed that set him on edge, I thought to myself, until he turned his stare up to Jorrvaskr and his brows lowered into a glare. Of course. Who worse to run into here than Vilkas? And of course, that would be inevitable. 

'Sofie!' a friendly voice cried from one of the benches beneath the Gildergreen. Lucia bounded towards me and enveloped me in a tight hug, her baby bump now all but gone. Kayd lingered behind, smiling, their daughter asleep in his arms. 'Why are you here? Did something happen to the College?'

'It isn't safe for us anymore,' I explained. 'So we came here. Did you hear about Windhelm?'

'Yes, we did - a dragon laid waste to the Dominion's army!'

'That was Odahviing,' I said. 'Ma sent him to prevent Windhelm being taken.'

Lucia beamed, then looked behind me, raising her eyebrows. 'Who's the new one?' she whispered.

'That miserable sod calls himself Vindar,' I sighed, prompting a giggle from Lucia. 

'I can hear you, you know,' Vindar called out in protest. 

'He was a healer in the...the torture chambers,' I said, a shiver running down my spine. 'He set me free, helped me escape, and has been feeling sorry for himself ever since.'

Lucia raised an eyebrow and smirked. 'Does making members of the Thalmor desert their position run in the family?' 

I lowered my voice to a whisper. 'Ondolemar seems to think he's got a thing for me.' 

'Probably has,' muttered Lucia. 'You're beautiful, strong, famous and rich. I'm sure half the men in Skyrim would happily take you to bed!'

I gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder and she cackled. 'Shut up, you. Anyway, I need to go up to Dragonsreach. Looks like Ondolemar went ahead without us. I'll come and see you and the baby soon.'

'See you later,' Lucia chirped, turning back towards Kayd. They walked away side by side, and I paused for a moment, smiling as I watched them go, until Vindar tapped my shoulder impatiently.

'We haven't got all night, you know,' he huffed. I glared at him, hands on my hips.

'Did you think I was going to stand there all night?'

'It's a figure of speech.'

'An unnecessary one.' I charged up the stairs, almost instantly regretting it as my legs began to burn and I started to sweat under my fur armour, but determined to reach the palace before him. I was half-angry and half-amused, wanting to bellow and laugh at the same time. Vindar was infuriating, but entertainingly so.

'If Skyrim is destined to fall,' Balgruuf was saying as we approached the throne, where Ondolemar was already speaking with the Jarl. 'Then Whiterun shall be the last of it to give in. I would sooner spend every drop of blood defending my city and leave them with nothing left to rule. Let them come.'

'Markarth has a good chance,' Ondolemar replied. 'Especially with those Silver-Bloods running it behind the puppet Jarl. Devout worshippers of Talos, and they hate the Thalmor almost as much as I do. Falkreath has no chance, the best course of action would be to let them occupy it. No resources anyway.'

'Just dead men,' said Balgruuf. 'And stone slabs. But perhaps the Empire will send a legion to defend it. After all, it's on the border of Cyrodiil.' The Jarl looked up at our approach, and smiled. 'It's good to see you again, Sofie. Who is this?' He gestured to Vindar.

'My name is Vindar,' he said. 

'That's your name,' Balgruuf drawled. 'And it doesn't tell me who you are.'

'The boy was a healer at the Thalmor Embassy for about five minutes before he deserted,' Ondolemar snorted. 'And he's a snivelling brat.'

Vindar glared at Ondolemar but said nothing. Balgruuf raised his eyebrows. 'If you people keep on deserting at this rate, there won't be a Dominion left to fight.'

The doors swung open, heavy armoured footsteps crashing up the stairs towards us. My stomach leapt as Vilkas came into sight, his stare immediately locking onto Ondolemar, who kept his face deliberately neutral.

'My Jarl,' Vilkas said after a brief silence, glancing at me as he stepped forward. 'Dominion scouts have been seen in the plains.' 

'By who?' Balgruuf asked.

'A whelp in our ranks,' Vilkas said. 

'Do they live?'

'The whelp did not have the skill to take on a dozen armoured soldiers.'

Balgruuf folded his arms. 'Huh. I remember the days when whelps had to be able to do that to even get in to the Companions. You lot have got soft over the years. As for you three,' he looked back at Ondolemar, Vindar and I. 'I am glad to have you in my city. A former Thalmor commander is an invaluable ally in these times, and a healer and a young warrior could prove useful if Whiterun comes under threat.' He stood from his throne and beckoned Irileth and Proventus after him up the stairs.

Ondolemar turned to lead us out of Dragonsreach when Vilkas moved suddenly, halting him in his tracks. 'Why are you here?' he hissed.

'I wasn't aware that it was any of your business,' Ondolemar drawled. 

'This is the Companions' city,' Vilkas growled. 'And I am a Companion. So it is my business.'

'This is Jarl Balgruuf's city, not yours, and I'm sure you're not so hard of hearing that you failed to notice he gave me permission to stay. Now do us both a favour and keep out of my way.' 

Vilkas scoffed. 'Why should I?'

'Because if you don't, and you come anywhere near me or Sofie, I'll pin you up against a wall again, and this time, I _will_ set you on fire. I won't warn you again. Move.' 

'Does Sofie get a say in this?'

'You heard him,' I hissed. 'Pig.' 

We pushed past him in the end, trudging wearily out of Dragonsreach when suddenly Vilkas roared with anger. 

'You wretch!' he bellowed. 'First you steal my wife, then my children, and then my home!'

'For Mara's sake,' Ondolemar sighed. 'Can't you see she was already gone? I never stole anything from you. I just found what you lost.' 

I didn't realise I was crying until Ondolemar looked at me, and the annoyance on his face was melted by pity. He put an arm around my shoulders, and I found myself huddling closer to his side like a child as we left Dragonsreach, the doors shutting us out in the cold night air. I gripped his arm all the way back to Breezehome, barely aware of Vindar trailing behind us, and collapsed on my childhood bed, falling asleep still in my clothes, and still crying.


	25. Defiler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

The first thing I became aware of was the cold. My clothes were damp, and the wind was freezing. There was a familiar odour in the air, of clay and salt and death. The marshes. 

A figure stood above me where I was crumpled against a flat stone surface, donning hooded blue robes. I would recognise those blue robes anywhere, the unnerving eyes that glinted from beneath that hood. 

'You have done well, Falion,' came that terrible rasping voice I had heard before. I was too cold and afraid to make a sound. My body was shaking uncontrollably. 

'She is what you asked for,' Falion answered. 'This girl and the soon-to-be dead Jarl of Morthal have watched me, not knowing I have watched them. Mara has touched her heart, and the boy's. Their love is blatantly, sickeningly visible to all around them.'

'And _chaste_.' 

I yelped as I was lifted off the ground and turned to face my captor. A warm trail of urine seeped down my legs as I stared into the eyes of Molag Bal, a gaunt human face that failed to mask the evil within. His smile was full of sick delight, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest.

'Squirm,' he murmured. 'Struggle. Fight.'

'Shall I kill her, Lord?' Falion asked. A small cry escaped from my throat, and the Daedric Prince pushed me against one of the stones, breathing in the scent of my skin. 

'No,' he answered. 'That will not be necessary. I will hear this one scream when I defile her useless mortal body.'

Finally I found the strength to scream, but Molag Bal slammed his hand against my mouth, drowning me out. I screamed on anyway, and his smile widened, until teeth emerged from behind his thin lips. Rows of long, sharp teeth, like needles, the real beast behind the mortal disguise emerging. I choked on my cries, grunting as he threw me to the floor and pressed his weight down upon me, Falion watching on with unreadable eyes. I shot him a pleading glance, praying that even a shred of humanity remained in him. 

Molag Bal gripped my hair with his fist and pulled my head up. 'First,' he whispered. 'I will destroy your body. Then I will mutilate your very soul. You will know my blessing - eternal life, limitless power, the taste of mortal blood.'

My sobs came tearing through my body as a circle of magic enclosed us, and the world faded out of sight, enveloped in darkness, and in the grip of the Lord of Domination. I resigned myself to my fate, retreating to some place deep within myself.

'STOP!' someone yelled. I dared to look up to see Serana on the other side of the barrier. Molag Bal seemed distracted by her, pausing and snarling her way.

'Take me instead!' Serana pleaded. 'Leave her and have me!'

Molag Bal held up a hand, and Falion let the barrier fall. Serana rushed into the circle, wild-eyed.

'I know you,' growled Molag Bal. 'Intruder. Serana of Clan Volkihar.'

'I've survived this ritual once,' she said. 'You know I can survive it again. This girl might not. You're wasting your time. Take me.'

Molag Bal bared those awful teeth at her in another loveless grin. 'But you are no virgin. Nor are you blessed with... _love_. I will defile Mara's gift.' 

'My heart belongs to a vampire hunter,' Serana answered. 'And I am ruined only by your will. Restore the Volkihar clan. Take me.'

'The fiend will take no one tonight!' cried a voice that made strength surge through my veins. I looked up to see Mother emerge from the shadowy depths of the marsh, a group of armoured men and women at her side. A beautiful sword gleamed in her hand, imbued with light. Molag Bal snarled. 

'Who are you, that comes wielding a weapon of Meridia in my presence?' He growled. 

'I am Eira Galethien,' Mother yelled. 'Champion of Meridia. The Dragonborn. _A mother_.'

'You!' barked a Redguard who stood at Mother's side, gesturing to Falion with his crossbow. 'Over there. Move it!' 

Falion obediently stepped out of the circle, his expression one of hatred, but tinged with fear. 

'Sissel,' Mother said. 'Come here.' 

I scrambled to my feet and rushed towards her, clinging to her side. Serana was left in the circle, facing Molag Bal, as the Dawnguard surrounded it. 

'Pathetic,' the Daedric Prince laughed. 'Only a fool would challenge me.'

'Only a fool would anger a dragon,' Mother hissed.

Molag Bal sneered. As he looked around, his skin began to rip, a blue, leathery sheen emerging beneath as he shed his human skin. Serana stumbled backwards, falling into the ranks of the Dawnguard, her face white with horror. Horns pierced their way out of his head, his face contorting, now little more than reptilian skin stretched over a skull. The Dawnguard fired, bolts ricocheting off the target's skin. They glanced around at each other, suddenly fearful, and Molag Bal laughed cruelly.

'Put down the crossbows!' yelled the Redguard. 'This bastard needs to be hacked apart.' 

'You hope to kill a GOD?' Molag Bal said as he towered over us, his hands stretching into claws.

'I already have,' Mother hissed, brandishing her sword. 'Sissel, run back to Morthal. Tell the Jarl to send reinforcements.' 

'Ma - '

'Do as I tell you. Hurry.' 

Reluctantly, I backed away as Molag Bal let out a roar, and the clashing of weapons started up from the circle. I fled through the marsh, sinking into the mud. When I looked back, all I could see were flashes of light in the distance. 

How could anyone defeat a Daedric Prince? Was it even possible? I'd heard tales of the Vestige who defeated Molag Bal in his own realm, and the Nerevarine who thwarted Hircine, and the Hero of Kvatch defeating Jyggalag. But not all stories were true, and the ones that were true were only true in part, embellished by the words of bards and drunkards. Yet my mother killed Alduin, who wasn't far off a god himself, and certainly fancied himself one. 

Roaring sounded in the distance, and I willed my weary legs to take me faster.


	26. The Three Holds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Vindar followed me like a lost puppy. He must have felt like one in this foreign land, where half the inhabitants looked at him like he was the lowest form of scum, and whispered when he turned his back. I found it mildly annoying, but my pity for him was stronger than my irritation. Kayd didn't seem to think much of him, and often made an excuse to leave whenever he was around. 

'He's just a stubborn oaf,' Lucia said as the three of us sat around a small table at the inn one afternoon. The baby was sat on her lap, fidgeting and frequently turning her wide blue stare to Vindar, who shifted uncomfortably, making me suppress a laugh.

'Redguards don't like elves,' I pointed out. 'I can't imagine Sayma raised him to have a high opinion of the Altmer.'

'Well the fool ought to,' Lucia protested. 'His child is named after an elf!'

'My mother's a league of her own. I think people here see her as an honorary Nord. Ondolemar still gets the looks, the whispers, pointing fingers. He just doesn't care.'

'Well I do,' said Vindar. 'I don't want to spend my life worrying about going out into the street and getting harassed.'

I raised an eyebrow at him. 'I thought you weren't planning on staying in Skyrim long?' 

'I'll be leaving as soon as this war's over.'

'But you said 'life'.'

Vindar huffed impatiently. 'You know what I mean.'

I saw Lucia bite down on a smirk out of the corner of my eye, and looked down at my nails. 'Technically, we're not at war yet.'

'Invading two major cities looks like war to me.'

'Yes, but there's been no diplomatic meeting, and neither General Tullius nor the High Queen have made an official statement.'

'Clearly they wanted to weaken Skyrim by taking Solitude and Windhelm before having any meetings,' Lucia said. 'They were probably intended to be a bribe. Of course, they can still use Solitude, but whilst they're stuck up there they're like cornered rats.'

'Ondolemar went out early this morning,' I said. 'Some official business at Dragonsreach. The Jarl is hosting some kind of council with the Jarls of Windhelm and Falkreath and anyone who's anyone in the three holds is up there. In fact, Balgruuf made him a Commander of Whiterun's defending forces.' 

'Hm. Let's hope Vilkas doesn't try and stir things up. No doubt he's up there with Aela and Farkas.' 

'If he does, I'll gut him,' I growled. 

'What's the story with all that?' Vindar asked.

I sighed. 'Well...my mother used to be married to Vilkas - '

'I gathered that much.'

'Yes, alright, let me get to the point,' I snapped. 'Anyway. Their relationship was fine at first, then we moved to Hjaalmarch, and they started arguing every time she came home. One day, Mother crawled out of the marsh, saying she'd ransacked the Thalmor embassy for information with the help of a Thalmor acquaintance. She moved us back to Whiterun, and turned up with Ondolemar a short while later, declaring that she owed him for messing up his career and placing his life in danger. Vilkas hated him from the onset. There was nothing going on at first. Ondolemar went off to Riften with her and she came back alone, saying he'd ditched her. Then she went off to look for him when he sent her a letter, and before they came back, rumour reached Whiterun that they were having an affair.'

'And then Vilkas caught them snogging in Breezehome,' Lucia giggled.

'Ew,' I cringed. 

'It was the talk of town,' Lucia said. 'There was a fight and everything. Then they took Sofie and Sissel away, and the next we heard, Alduin was dead, and they were heading for Winterhold.' 

'I see,' said Vindar. 'That makes sense now. I didn't want to ask before, because...well, you were upset.' 

For some stupid reason, my face flushed a little. 'Oh. Thank you, then, I guess.' A brief pause came over the table, when Vindar eyed me strangely, and I found myself looking away quickly as my cheeks burned. 

The door swung open, and an Imperial soldier burst into the inn. His eyes settled on me, and he marched towards our table. 

'Lady Sofie Galethien?' he said. 

'Y-yes?'

'Your presence has been requested at Dragonsreach.'

'What for? Why would they need me?'

'I cannot disclose that, my lady. Please follow me.' He looked down at Vindar. 'You come too.' 

'Very well,' he murmured. We rose from the table and bid Lucia and the baby goodbye, following the soldier out of the Bannered Mare and into the soft afternoon light. 

My legs throbbed by the time we had climbed all the stairs to Dragonsreach's conference room, where the tables had been arranged into a square. The place was abuzz with squabbling between nobles of different holds, each Jarl flanked by guards that bore their crest, except Balgruuf, who was speaking aside with Irileth, whilst Ondolemar paced nearby, his brows drawn in that telltale expression of stress. 

'My lords and ladies,' the soldier said, presenting me to the council. 'Lady Sofie. And...that one.' I could almost sense Vindar's grimace of distaste.

I caught sight of the Companions lurking on the far wall. Vilkas was there, not even looking at me. Prick. 

Ondolemar approached me and addressed the council. 'Quiet!' he bellowed. Surprisingly, even the Jarls fell silent at the sound of his voice, sharp as the crack of a whip. 'Those of you who have any love left for Jarl Maven Black-Briar, cast your eyes upon this young woman. Just last month, she fell victim to our enemy, who Maven would embrace with open arms. They strapped her to a chair. They _tortured_ her.' He placed a hand on my shoulder. 'Tell them, Sofie.'

Taking a breath to steady myself, I stepped forward a little and cleared my throat, aware of all their stares upon me. 'They took me in the night,' I said. 'I woke up in a cell. Elenwen feigned kindness at first, but I knew better than to fall for her tricks. So she had me restrained, and...and...' 

I winced as I remembered the tip of a red-hot knife searing my flesh, the cold laughter of Elenwen and my mother's father mingling with my screams, Vindar's wide, horrified stare. I glanced at him - his eyes were closed, fingers digging into his palms. He had to live with his part in that. 

'Are you really making her recall this to an audience?' I heard Vilkas snarl. 'This kind of trauma?'

'SHUT UP!' I screeched. 'You keep your mouth _shut_. I know my own limits. I'll decide what I'm capable of.' I pulled at the strings on the corset of my dress, tugging them gently apart. Hisses of disgust and horror echoed around the room as I showed them the eagle carved and singed into my flesh just above my bust. 

'By the gods,' muttered Jarl Brunwulf, averting his eyes and massaging his temples, shaking his head.

'This is what the Thalmor do to innocent people,' Ondolemar hissed. 'This mark - the eagle - is what they give to prisoners that they intend to execute. This is the Dominion's way of declaring ownership over a life. If Eira and I had not broken into the embassy, and that healer there - ' he gestured towards Vindar. ' - had not cut her bonds and saved us time, Sofie would be another corpse on the pile.' 

'Thank you, Commander,' said Balgruuf, splaying his hands out on the table and looking out at the other Jarls. 'This is what Maven would happily turn a blind eye to in the name of power. True Nords have more honour than to allow these people to mutilate Skyrim's daughters and murder her sons.'

'So, what then?' Jarl Siddgeir's steward Nenya said. 'We hold a diplomatic meeting with Maven to put forth our demands?'

Brunwulf frowned. 'For the whole time we've been in council, Jarl Siddgeir has said not even one word, for his steward speaks on his behalf.' 

Siddgeir looked up from picking at his nails with a huff. 'My steward is far more experienced in such matters,' he answered in a voice so arrogant it put Alinor's aristocrats to shame. 'Take her words as my own.' 

'Maven will not respond to diplomacy,' Balgruuf argued. 'She believes herself to be invincible. However, if we can convince Hjaalmarch, Winterhold and the Reach to join us, we can take the Rift by force, and find a better candidate for Jarl.'

'Balgruuf,' Brunwulf protested. 'A civil conflict when we are at threat from invaders, who already hold our capital city?'

'With the other holds united, it would be little more than a brief skirmish. Eliminate Maven Black-Briar and her sons, free the Rift from the corruption that festers there, and turn our attention towards Solitude.'

'It will not be easy to secure assistance from the Reach,' Ondolemar interjected. 'The Thalmor maintain a presence there that I myself once occupied. Then there are the problems with the Forsworn attacking the city. Igmund will be reluctant to spare any men.'

'Convince Igmund to arrest and execute the Thalmor in Markarth,' Nenya said. 

'It's not that simple. Markarth is corrupt, rotten to the core, as bad as Riften. When I still worked there as a Justiciar, I was investigating the Silver-Blood family for evidence of Talos worship when I received a multitude of threats, and Igmund even advised me to leave them be. Of course, I still sought out information, but with greater discretion. I believe them to be in league with the Forsworn somehow.'

'Then we have to remove the Silver-Bloods,' said Brunwulf. 'And uncover this...Forsworn conspiracy.' 

'Winterhold has only a handful of men to spare,' Nenya said. 'Is it worth involving them?'

'I believe so,' Balgruuf answered. 'What the lack in men they make up for in funds. The College generates plenty of tax for Jarl Kraldar. At the very least, he can provide funds for some weapons.'

'And Hjaalmarch,' Brunwulf said. 'Idgrod is dead. Her son is now Jarl.'

'What?' Ondolemar interrupted. 'When did this happen?'

'This is news to me too,' Balgruuf said. 

'I received the message the day I departed,' Brunwulf answered. 'A wizard, Falion, was chased from town on Jarl Joric's orders. His first command, I believe.'

'Auriel's grace,' hissed Ondolemar. 'Eira is headed for Morthal with the Dawnguard. She's probably there by now.'

'The Dawnguard? What for?'

'The wizard in question had summoned Molag Bal and was plotting to create a new vampire clan.' His voice was trembling now. 'Sissel...'

'Let me go,' I said. 'Let me go to Morthal and see what's going on. While I'm at it, I can convince Joric to join us.' 

Ondolemar shook his head. 'It's too dangerous.'

'I can handle myself,' I protested. 'I got here in one piece from Winterhold, then I got myself and a heavily pregnant woman from here to Solitude. I'll take a carriage.'

'I can go with her,' Vindar offered a little too eagerly, attracting glances from around the room. He quickly restored his composure, his cheeks flushing a strange gold-pink. 'My, uh...restoration training could be useful.' 

'Hmph,' Ondolemar grunted, narrowing his eyes at Vindar. 'Fine. But I'm not happy about it.' He turned to me and placed a purse full of septims in my hand. 'Get yourself a decent set of armour. And him. Offer to pay the driver double if he gets you there twice as quick. And whatever you do, get there in one piece, find your mother straight away, or she'll _kill_ me.' 

I beamed up at him. 'I'll send word when I get there.' He forced a smile as I walked away, beckoning Vindar after me. He trotted loyally at my heals like a faithful dog, down the stairs and out of Dragonsreach.

What awaited me in Morthal, I had no idea. But I wouldn't rest until I knew Sissel and my mother were alright. 

'Where's Morthal?' asked Vindar. 'How far away is it? And who's Joric?'

I groaned. 'Save the questions for the carriage, Vindar. Let's get to Warmaiden's.'


	27. Sisters Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

I ran up to Highmoon Hall with full force, about to tear through the door when the rough hands of the guards pulled me back.

'What are you doing?' I demanded. 'I need to see the Jarl!'

'The Jarl isn't taking visitors,' one guard replied. 'Especially not at this hour. You'll have to come back some other time.'

'Please,' I begged. 'It's an emergency.'

'Sorry,' the other guard said. 'We don't make the rules.'

'Do you fools have any idea who I am?!' I screeched. 'Have you no idea what's going on?'

'You're a deranged little girl,' growled the first guard, roughly seizing me and placing me down on the snow with my back to Highmoon Hall. Shaking with rage now, I folded my hands into fists.

'I am NOT deranged,' I hissed without turning to look at them. 'And I am NOT a child.' I whirled on them, a quick shot of magic flying out of either hand and striking their necks. They fell to the ground, paralysed, their eyes wide beneath their helmets. 

I pushed on into Highmoon Hall, where I found Joric sat on the bed that used to belong to his mother and father, and now to him. He stared off into space, his circlet in his hands, still fully clothed, and didn't look up at my approach. My throat clenched at the sight of him, my heart swelling, blood surging.

'Joric,' I whispered. 'Joric, you must come.'

'I thought you had left,' he croaked. 

'I did,' I replied. 'I walked for hours. Then someone chased me and knocked me out. It was Falion. He took me to the stone circle and - and - ' I steadied my breathing. 'Molag Bal was there. He l-lifted me up and...threw me down on the ground, then he c-climbed on top of me...he was going to...' My voice quivered, and finally Joric looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. 

'I should have known,' he hissed gently, getting to his feet. He approached me, resting his hand on my right cheek as I broke down. 'I should never have let you leave. By the gods, Sissel. I'm so sorry.' My sobs tore themselves from my lungs. Joric caught my in his arms as my legs gave way beneath me, lifting me up and cradling my head against his chest, his fingers lightly stroking my hair. 

'Serana came,' I said when I had regained some composure. 'I don't know how she knew, but she came, and offered herself in my place. Then my mother showed up with the Dawnguard.'

'I sent them there,' Joric revealed. 'Not because I thought you were there, but because the early hours of the morning was the best time for them to investigate. Thank the gods I did.'

'They need reinforcements.'

'I'll wake the Legate.' 

'Wait - ' I said, clinging to him as he was about to stride off. He halted and stared at me, a softness in his eyes that hadn't always been there.

'I demeaned you,' Joric despaired. 'I ignored your pleas. I dismissed you. I hurt you. Sissel, please. You deserve better than what I can give you.' 

I took my hand in his, squeezing it gently. 'I don't want anyone else,' I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek as I smiled up at him. 'We all have flaws. Look at me, a nervous wreck, pretty much useless.'

'No,' he said. 'You _were_ a nervous wreck, but you've changed. You're stronger now. Look at you - standing here, with a smile on your face, composed, after almost being...raped. By a Daedric Prince. Don't you dare tell me you're useless. Don't you dare say you're not the strongest woman I've ever met.' 

'Then I have the strength to be with you,' I replied. 'If you want it.'

Joric seemed to melt, giving in to his desire and enclosing me in his embrace, placing soft kisses on my lips, his hands entangling in my hair. 'More than anything,' he murmured as we parted, resting his forehead against mine for a moment. 

'Then it's agreed,' I laughed. 'You and me. Once that bastard has been sent back to Oblivion.' 

'Taurinus!' bellowed Joric, poking his head around the door. A shuffling sound came from the room on the other side as the Legate quickly threw on his armour and emerged moments later, barely pulled together. 

'Yes, my Jarl?'

'Round up your men and send them into the marsh,' Joric ordered. 'To the summoning circle. Leave only enough to protect the town.'

'What are we to find there, my lord?'

'Molag Bal,' Joric said. Taurinus' face went white. 'The Dawnguard are there already but they need backup. Off you go.'

Taurinus dashed outside. Gorm, the housecarl, followed him out, leaving Joric and I alone in the longhouse. 

'You should stay here,' Joric said, busying about in a chest at the end of his bed. 

'You're going?' I exclaimed. 'Joric, you can't - '

'I won't stand idly by when that monster who dared lay a hand on you is out there, laying waste to good people,' he argued. 

'If anyone can defeat him, my mother can,' I assured him, placing a hand on his arm. 'Stay with me.'

He stopped, shuddering at my touch. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist it - suddenly I had a great sense of power. This is what Mother joked about with the other women at the College when they chattered about men, and how pliable their wills could be. I smiled to myself, an indulgence in the dark times I faced, as Joric let out a sigh, a sign of the internal conflict I had created. 

'Well,' he huffed. 'If Molag Bal escapes, at least if I'm here I can get you to safety.' 

I suppressed my laugh. 'Exactly.'

A crashing sound came from the main hall, and a gust of wind swept in. Joric drew his weapon and pushed me behind him, creeping out into the doorframe.

'Hello?' called a familiar voice. I pushed past Joric, who tried to pull me back, and gasped with simultaneous shock and relief as Sofie's face was lit up by the fire pit. 

'Sofie!' I screeched, flying towards her. We locked together in a warm embrace, holding each other tight. 'What are you doing here?' I glanced behind her to the mysterious figure behind her - an Altmer man in hooded robes, his face young and eyes wide and shy. 'And who's that?'

'It's all a long story,' Sofie sighed. 'I'll tell you everything later. This is Vindar. We need to find Ma.'

'She's at the summoning circle,' I said quietly. 'Fighting Molag Bal. His servant, Falion...he came after me. Captured me, dragged me there. I was...he tried...oh gods.' I shook my head, my heart thudding. Sofie went white.

'They were going to make you a Daughter of Coldharbour?' she asked. I nodded, and she hissed. 'The bastards. Pricks. I'll kill them all!'

'My men are heading there,' Joric said. 'If you hurry, you can go with them.' 

'Come on,' she said to Vindar. 'You can help with their wounds.' She placed a kiss on my cheek. 'We'll be back soon, when this is over with.' 

'Be safe,' I called after her as she and her companion walked back out into the night. I turned and looked at Joric, suddenly aware of the emptiness of the longhouse. Everything was still and quiet. It was cold, even with the fire pit still glowing. 

'Why don't you get some sleep?' Joric suggested. 'You look shattered.'

'I don't know. What if I have nightmares? Nightmares lead to visions, and I can't handle that now.'

'You need to rest,' he insisted. 'Take my bed. I'll wait up for word from the others.'

'Alright. I suppose there's no harm in trying.' I trudged off to his room. 'Wake me up as soon as you get news.'

'Sleep well.'


	28. Dawnbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

Getting to the summoning circle was tougher than it sounded. Joric's men had gone by the time we left Highmoon Hall, leaving us to work out the way alone. We spent most of the time knee-deep in mud and clay, every step consuming vast amounts of energy. When flashing lights finally came into sight and the sound of panicked voices filled the air, I was exhausted, but my blood soon started to run hot with the lure of battle. Just as I was about to charge in, Vindar gripped my arm. I whirled, about to hiss at him, asking what he thought he was doing, until I saw his face, wild and fearful.

'What's the matter?' I demanded, a little too harshly than I'd intended. 'You can sit this one out if you want.'

'It's not that,' he said. 'I'm trained for battle. I just...' He trailed off, blinking hard. 

'Just what?'

'I...er...thank you. For being a friend to me. I haven't always been appreciative.'

Something in me sunk, and I wasn't quite sure why - I suppose I had expected more. Some grand declaration of affection. Love, even. I cringed a little at the thought, but it was tempting to lean in for a kiss. He was so close to me, still clinging to my arm. 

'That's okay,' I murmured, forcing a smile onto my face. 'Come on. Let's give this fucker what he deserves.' I charged through the marsh towards the summoning circle, pushing my thoughts aside. 

I don't know what I had been expecting, but the sight halted me in my tracks. Dead bodies and wounded men lay strewn about the area, groans and shrieks of pain, the stench of blood, piss and sweat filling the air. Mother stood against the beast in the centre, a being like the sickening cross between a bull and a snake, blue skinned, with eyes that burned with a cold fire. Serana was crouched nearby, clinging to her side, still firing spells at the Daedric Prince whilst she delivered healing magic to a dark-skinned man who lay unconscious beside her. Only a few of Joric's soldiers and some vampire hunters still stood. 

'Go and help some of those people,' I ordered Vindar. He darted towards Serana, who gladly accepted the bright beams of restoration magic he offered her. Ma, recognising him, whirled, her wide eyes settling on me. She mouthed a curse. Molag Bal took his chance and smashed the handle of his mace into her ribs, cackling as she flew backwards, her sword clattering against the rocks beside me, out of her reach. 

'Dragonborn,' he spat, advancing on her, not noticing me lurking in the shadows. 'Is this all the great god Auriel can muster of his own wretched _essence_ to save Tamriel from my wrath? Pathetic. If Alduin fell to something as meagre as you, he did not deserve to live. Now die, fool, as all those who stood with you die in these marshes.' 

Thinking quickly, I seized the gleaming blade from beside me. It shone bright as I gripped it, making Molag Bal snarl as I hurled myself towards him, the blade piercing his stomach. He was knocked back, staggering, hissing from pain. As I drew out the blade, ichor spilled over the ground, but I watched in horror as new flesh closed over the wound. 

'What is this?' Molag Bal mocked. 'The little warrior comes to the rescue. How I would love to indulge your little tale, if only to watch you suffer more for it. But I think not.'

I began to quiver uncontrollably, freezing to the spot as Molag Bal reached for me. Vindar cried out, my hearing muffled from fear and shock as the dawn crept over the distant mountains, a shard of light bursting into the clearing. It singed Molag Bal where it touched his wrinkled blue skin, and he growled in fury. 

'NOW!' Mother screamed with the last of her energy. Before the Daedric Prince could react, distracted by the light's burning kisses, I plunged the sword into his chest. This time, the wound burst with white flames, and he shrieked with agony as his flesh burned away. I drew the sword out and stabbed him again and again, tearing away at his body, until he fell to his knees, baring teeth like needles as his eyes burned away, his black nostrils filling with fire, his flesh crumbling away to ashes, until nothing remained of him but a smouldering pile of dust. 

'By the blood of Malacath,' marvelled one of the Dawnguard, an orc who clung to a nearby tree. 

'Y-you...you did it,' Vindar stammered. 

'Get my mother patched up,' I told him. 'She can help you help the rest.'

'Isran,' Serana murmured to the Redguard man on the floor, shaking him gently. 'Come on. Wake up. Please wake up. By the Eight...' 

Mother gasped as Vindar's magic seeped into her veins, restoring her vitality, her face contorting with pain. A deep gash torn above her breast sealed over, the bloodstains browning on her clothes. 'You did it,' she croaked as I fell to my knees beside her, tears readily falling from my eyes. She pulled me into a crushing embrace, and I rested my head against her shoulder. Vindar ran over to Serana, whilst those still standing helped tend to the wounded. There was another healer among us, who kept muttering things about Arkay, wearing Dawnguard armour.

'No,' Serana sobbed. 'No. This can't be happening. Wake him up! You've got to wake him up!' 

'He's not responding,' Vindar said. 

'Wake him up!' Serana screeched again. Mother sighed and pushed herself up, crossing over to them.

'I'm trying.' Vindar's normal snappy demeanour was overridden by patience, I noticed, when he worked. Mother bent down and held Isran's wrist between her finger and thumb, her eyes closed, waiting.

'He's gone,' Ma said. Serana looked away, howling. Vindar looked down at the corpse for a moment, seemingly in mourning, then rose and went over to another of the scattered bodies, checking for signs of life. He moved between them all, healing those who still lived, and closing the eyes of the dead. 

'A dark day for the Dawnguard,' I heard a Bosmer woman mumble as she looked down at Isran's body, grimacing. Mother squeezed Serana's shoulder then left her be, approaching me again.

'She prefers to be alone at times of loss,' Ma mumbled. 'The two of them hated that they loved each other.'

'How did you know?' I asked.

'Know what?'

'That the dawn light would do the trick.'

Ma hesitated. 'There are a few of the Princes who have...earned my respect. And I theirs. Meridia gave me the blade you banished that bastard with. They are ancient rivals, and the dawn is sacred to her. I knew he would despise it. This whole fight was just for me to buy time.' 

'You bought it,' I confirmed. 'At a price.'

'Blood pays when gold cannot.' She addressed the survivors. 'We take the dead with us to Morthal. Every able bodied man and woman, bring who you can. Florentius, consecrate this place. Celann, stay with him.' 

Vindar helped me lift the limp, soiled corpse of a guard back to the town. Trudging through the marsh with the deadweight body was demanding, disgusting and profoundly tragic. Yet another event in a recent string that had made my childhood fade away. Letting go of my past life, witnessing a birth, undergoing torture, and seeing this much death, hauling this empty vessel that had once been a man back to his home town. 

Amongst it all, though, was Vindar. An elf. A mage. A _Thalmor_ healer, nonetheless. The opposite of me, the warrior, the Nord, eager to bring the Dominion to its knees. Was it so strange? Had I not been raised by such people? Still, it was different. I didn't know how, it just was. Wasn't it?

'Sofie,' Vindar said, causing me to look up.

'What?'

'Are you alright?'

My heart leapt at that golden stare. In the dawn light, he was a statue again. He was still even when he walked. He shone even when he was sad. 

'I will be.'


	29. Parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sissel's POV

The funeral for all the dead had been awful. So many tears, shed by so few friends left behind, and so many kin left without sons and daughters. Joric himself had lit the funeral pyre. It wasn't the most common way for the dead in Skyrim to be handled - a mass cremation. But the graveyard had no space, and the mill could only cut so much wood. The terrible reality of the practicalities of death. 

Sofie had told me that night, when we both couldn't sleep, of what she had endured. I'd cried with her when she'd showed me the eagle marked on her body, cursing Elenwen and our mother's wretched father, wishing them pain and death. So much had changed in so little time. In months we had grown from girls into women who were hardened and shaped from the harshness of life. Still, we had giggled like we did in that little room in Breezehome when we were children when I told her about Joric. Some things couldn't be torn away by suffering, and sisterhood was one of them.

The following day, when the fire had died down and the remaining bones quietly disposed of along with the ashes in the night, Ondolemar came into town by carriage with a face as grim as stone. Relief washed over his features as he saw me loitering at the lakeside, and he rushed forward, pulling me into a tight hug. 

'Thank the gods you're safe,' he said. 'Where are your mother and Sofie?'

'In the longhouse,' I answered. 'I got too hot in there, so I left. What's wrong?'

'Come back inside and you'll hear it all.'

'Alright.' I shrugged off my cloak and followed him into Highmoon Hall, dumping it at a bench on the side when we entered. Mother choked on a sob and went straight into his arms, letting herself be comforted. 

'Why are you here?' she sniffed. 'What news comes from Whiterun?' 

He pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. 'We're taking the Rift by force and removing the Black-Briars from the seat of power,' he explained. 'But we need all the help we can get.'

Sofie entered from the conference room at the side of the hall, and to my surprise threw her arms around Ondolemar. 'See? I'm still breathing!'

'Just about,' remarked Mother. 'Sofie tells me _you_ sent her into a fight with a Daedric Prince, dear.'

'Well...that's not exactly how I would put it,' Ondolemar objected. 'But yes, I do admit to sending her and Vindar out here. Speaking of which, where is that boy?' 

'In there,' said Sofie, gesturing to the conference room. 'Annoying Joric. Vindar! Get out here!' 

Vindar scowled as he appeared in the doorframe. 'I'm not a dog for you to bark your orders at.' 

Sofie shrugged and grinned playfully. 'You might as well be.' 

Joric emerged from the room, glancing around. 'Can I help?'

'My Jarl,' Ondolemar greeted. 'As a commander in the service of Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun, I bring a formal invitation for you to join us in reforming the powers of the Rift and the Reach.' He produced a neat scroll from his pocket and handed it to Joric, who hastily unwrapped it, letting the ribbon fall to the floor as he scanned its contents.

'You want to dispose of the Black-Briars and the Silver-Bloods?' Joric said. 'Hmph. Can't say I blame you much. But I'm afraid I have no men to spare. The battle with Molag Bal cost us much, and the last of my spare men are out hunting for Falion to bring him to justice.' 

'To know we have your support is adequate for now,' Ondolemar said. 'The rest can wait.'

'What is the purpose of this mission?'

'To stabilise these regions so that we can use their forces to retake Solitude from the invading forces of the Aldmeri Dominion.' 

'Hmph. Very well. Gorm!' The housecarl came thundering out of the conference. 'Get me a quill, would you?' Gorm returned seconds later with a useless, dry quill, and Joric huffed. 'One with ink on it would be helpful. Quickly now.' When Gorm came back, Joric scribbled a signature on the scroll and blew gently on it, handing it back to Ondolemar. 'Tell Balgruuf I'll offer whatever support I can afford to.'

'Much appreciated,' Ondolemar muttered, rolling the scroll back up.

'When did Balgruuf make you a commander?' Mother demanded, frowning, her hands on her hips. Ondolemar raised his eyebrows.

'You're looking at me like it's a bad thing.'

' _No_. But it's news to me. Nobody tells me anything.'

'You've been away for weeks,' he argued. 'I had to take Sofie and Vindar to Whiterun because we were too vulnerable in Winterhold, and it so happened that Balgruuf saw the value of having use of an experienced military commander with inside knowledge of Thalmor tactics.' 

'Have you seen...him?'

'If you mean Vilkas, yes I have. And I told him to move on with his life. Satisfied?'

'Don't you snap at me!' 

I caught Sofie's eye, and we both pulled the same face we always pulled when they started bickering. Vindar was lingering behind her, always her shadow. Joric watched on, looking bored.

'There are more important matters at hand than your personal quarrels,' he pointed out.

'Indeed there are,' Ondolemar grumbled. 'We should return to Whiterun immediately.'

My heart sunk as the realisation dawned on me that I would have to leave Morthal, and with it, Joric. For the first time in my life, I felt torn between my family, and someone I loved with equal measure.

'Sissel,' Mother said, drawing me out of my thoughts. 'Has your training been successful?' 

'Yes,' I answered truthfully, glancing at Joric. 'But...'

'She and Joric are together,' Sofie blurted out. I glared at her, shocked, but part of me was almost grateful that I didn't have to find the words myself. Ma's eyes widened with surprise, glancing between us, and Ondolemar's expression darkened. I braced myself.

'At seventeen?' he growled. 'For gods sakes, Sissel. You're far too young.'

Mother sighed. 'They're Nords, not Altmer. Most girls get married at not much older than Sissel and Sofie are now.'

Ondolemar narrowed his eyes at her. 'Yes, and marry a boring old farmer, spending the rest of their precious years miserable, and dying in childbed.'

'Joric isn't a boring old farmer, he's a Jarl!' I argued, perhaps a little childishly. 

'Sissel, we can't let you stay here,' Ma said. 'But I see no problem with you writing to each other until this war has passed.' She shot Ondolemar a glare.

'Hmph. Fine,' he begrudgingly agreed, then loured at Joric. 'But if you hurt her, you'll be fed to the dragons.' 

Ma laughed. 'That I _can_ agree to.'

'Rest assured,' Joric said. 'I wouldn't dream of such a thing.'

'This is all very touching,' Sofie interjected. 'But Balgruuf awaits our report.'

'She's right,' said Ma. 'We need to go. Say your goodbyes, Sissel. We'll wait outside.'

Ondolemar shot Joric one more warning look before Mother pulled him outside, Sofie and Vindar following behind them. Alone in the main hall with Joric, I threw my arms around his neck, letting my tears flow as I listened to his heartbeat. 

'Will you be alright?' I whispered, looking up at him. 

'I'll have to be,' he answered. 'Dark times are on the horizon.' He leaned in and kissed me softly. 'Remember, Morthal is only a day's journey from Whiterun. If you ever need me, I'll be a carriage ride away.' 

'I'll write to you every week,' I said.

'You might not have to.'

'What?'

'We're clairvoyants, Sissel. Remember?'

I laughed. 'You know, it's been so long since any visions have come to me, I almost forgot.'

'I wouldn't count on it staying that way for long,' Joric warned. 'Remember - when your gift shows you something, do not repress it, don't ignore it, focus in on the fragments - '

'Oh shush,' I scolded. 'Don't turn our parting into another lesson.' 

'Sorry,' he muttered, kissing my forehead. 'I'll see you soon.'

I smiled up at him, letting our entwined fingers fall away from each other. 'See you soon.' 

When I turned away, I didn't look back; I knew if I did, I'd break down. So I continued out into the mist beyond the warm timber walls of Highmoon Hall, wiping the tears away from my eyes, and climbed into the carriage that waited to bear us to Whiterun.


	30. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofie's POV

It was strange, returning to Whiterun after all that had happened. In the end, Mother had given Dawnbreaker to me - she believed it was Meridia's will that I have it. Whether or not that meant she had communed with her, I didn't know, but I had a new blade and the favour of a goddess, so it suited me either way. 

Sissel wanted to be alone for a while when we got back. Understandable, of course. Maybe she wanted to contact Joric with that weird mind-linking thing that those with the Sight could apparently do. With Mother and Ondolemar at Dragonsreach, and my mind in no place for politics, I took a stroll through the city to sit by the Gildergreen.

The sun was setting by the time Vindar found me. It seemed as though the Altmer were designed to be admired at dusk and dawn, the light shimmering against their golden skin so that they glowed with an aura of divinity. No wonder the Thalmor fancied themselves superior beings. Vindar's beauty made me shy away - I'd never considered myself at all lovely to look at. My combat skill and quick-thinking were my best traits. It was Sissel who was beautiful, her eyes a pair of gleaming moonstones set in a face crafted of monumental alabaster, her pale hair tumbling down her back in soft waves. If she had the courage and the space in her poor, aching heart, she could have journeyed through the provinces and made leaders rise and fall with the fluttering of her eyelashes. I was a dark-haired barbarian, my skin dotted with freckles and my brows bushy and unkempt. Next to Vindar, I was little more than a peasant beside a king.

'I've been looking for you,' he said.

'What for?'

'I have something I'd like to give you.'

I frowned as he produced a long, flat box from his robes and handed it to me, his fingers briefly interlacing with mine. Removing the lid, I gasped at the sight of a silver pendant on a fine chain, the symbol of the bear of Eastmarch engraved delicately on its face. 

'Turn it over,' Vindar said, and I obeyed, seeing the horse of Whiterun on the other side. 'You said you came from Windhelm, but always considered Whiterun your home.'

'I...by the gods, Vindar, this must have cost you a fortune,' I marvelled, holding it up to the light. 'It's beautiful. But why? What have I done to deserve this?'

'If I'm not mistaken, your birthday is in four days.'

'You remembered that?'

Vindar smiled. 'I remember everything. I ordered to have this made by Eorlund Gray-Mane when we came here a little over a week ago.' 

'Help me put it on,' I said, pulling my hair to the side. Vindar scooted closer to me and fiddled with the clasp. I shuddered at the warmth of his skin, trying to maintain my self-control. When the clasp clicked into place, my heart thudded as I felt his lips brush against my neck, and turned quickly, staring at him through dreamy eyes. He seemed shocked at himself, and his brows furrowed as he went to move away, but I clung to his arm, stopping him. 

Abandoning his composure, he leaned in and captured my lips with his, and I hungrily accepted, my hands seizing him by his robes. At last our hearts collided, our squabbling long behind us, joined in our desire as the barrier melted away, beyond the cares of the world.

'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for,' he whispered when we finally parted. 

'Then why in Oblivion didn't you?' 

'Because I thought you'd punch me,' Vindar laughed, then his face fell suddenly. 'Ondolemar will definitely punch me.'

'Hm. Probably. He tends to get a little overprotective.' I shrugged, smirking at the look on his face. 'Still, if I ask nicely enough, he might let you keep _one_ of your eyes...' 

'Auriel preserve me,' Vindar groaned. 

I extended my hand to him as I stood from the bench. 'Come on. Let's go somewhere away from prying eyes that might go running to the parents.'

'Where?'

'Around the back of the Bannered Mare.'

'Inviting me somewhere quiet?' he teased, taking my hand. 'What do you intend to do with me?'

'I'll beat you up if you don't mind that filthy mouth of yours,' I replied, grinning to myself, my heart bursting with joy as I led him down the stairs, anticipating kisses in the dusk and warm embraces.

**********

That night, I couldn't sleep. For a while I sat up on my bed, thinking of Molag Bal's sneering face, the rows of long sharp teeth, the claws that had reached for me only to be singed by the sunrise. If I squinted at the darkness long enough, I swore I could make out his figure, lurking there, or when I turned my head and a dark mass seemed to linger at the edge of my vision. I considered waking Sissel, but she seemed restless enough as it was, and Vindar was completely surrendered to sleep.

Murmuring could be heard from upstairs. I left my bed and crept over to the bottom of the staircase, listening out for snippets of conversation.

' - not familiar with Thalmor tactics,' Ondolemar was saying. 'They will lose.'

'You and I could teach them,' Mother yawned.

'You can't teach years of practice in a matter of weeks.' Inaudible muttering followed, then a clunk.

'Come to bed, my love.'

'I won't sleep.'

'You can still rest.'

I heard Ondolemar sigh, followed by the creaking of bed slats. 'This needs replacing.'

'Don't whinge. You used to sleep on a stone bed.' 

'When I was younger!'

'Only a few years younger.'

'It's being with you that's aged me,' Ondolemar chuckled. 'Look. Look at my eyes. Those are _wrinkles_.'

'Well, living on the north coast for a month on a diet of horker and snowberries doesn't do much for one's complexion.'

'Here we go again.'

'I'm joking, you grumpy sod.'

'Hmph. You'd better be. Goodnight, then.'

'Goodnight, love.' 

The house went utterly still. In the darkness, I contemplated what was going to happen - a battle to free Solitude, a fight to rid the Thalmor from the other provinces, and finally, a crazy bid to topple to Dominion altogether. Then what? Rebuild? Start over? Try to maintain peace? Could the Empire withstand such a war? Without an Empire, there would be no peace - fights over territory, a hundred wars exploding across the continent.

In the end, it would probably all come down to one person:

My mother. 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not done yet! Keep your eyes peeled for part three, soon to be uploaded, and thank you to everyone who has read this and Spinning Gold :)


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